


A Matter Of Delicacy

by werebird



Category: Lacrosse RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Awkward Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Crack, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Rimming, Self-Discovery, Simon is not an asshole in this, Solo Artist Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:52:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 68,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5627290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werebird/pseuds/werebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry stares at the card that's just been handed to him. He really can't believe what he's reading, undeniably with his own two eyes.</p><p><strong> <em>When we step in, you step out.</em> </strong><br/>
<strong>-X. Ritz - Your professional coming out assistant.-</strong></p><p>"Is this a joke?" Harry asks. "This is not a real profession." Of course Harry doesn't know <em>all</em> the professions. But he is pretty sure coming out assistant is not a real job. But apparently it is. And he's going to be a professional coming out assistant's client. Great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Meet-Up

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired by not so recent events](http://xarryaf.tumblr.com/post/132497508803/meet-xander-professional-coming-out-assistant). Don't take this too seriously please.

Harry's hands are sweaty and he shifts uncomfortable in the office chair across from Simon's huge desk. He can't keep his left leg still and his right eye is twitching. It's not from the sunlight that's coming through the window and the air conditioning should prevent him from sweating, but it has no effect on how he's feeling. Nervous, anxious, and as if his body had already gone into flight mode. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. A stupid idea. Very, very stupid. Maybe he should just leave.

"So Harry," Simon starts but he's still looking on his computer screen. Apparently managers always have to look busy no matter what. "What can I do for you?" 

"Uh," Harry tries. He takes a deep breath and figures the best way to get it out is to just get it over with. "Isortofwannacomeout," he blurts.

"Sorry, what was that?" Simon asks, finally looking up. 

"I, uh, sort of, want to come out," Harry repeats. "If that's, you know, if that's possible," he says. 

Simon takes off his reading glasses and draws his eyebrows together. 

"If it's not inconvenient," Harry adds. Even though he knows that a coming out is always inconvenient when you're a figure of public interest and everyone has been thinking of you as a straight womanizer for five years. Good luck to him. 

Simon stays silent for a long long time. Harry keeps on shifting nervously. He's ready to take it all back. It won't kill him to wait another year. He'll go on a few public dates with some of his female friends and laugh the rumors off. Just like he usually does. 

"It's not going to be easy," Simon starts. Harry knows. He knows that there are still way too many prejudices and stereotypes out there. He knows he might get a lot of bad press, he might be ridiculed and he knows there are some people who will refuse to work with him. But none of it means there is something wrong with him. It only means there is plenty wrong with the world and some of the people living in it. "Are you sure that you're ready?" Simon asks.

Harry nods. He doesn't have to think for a moment longer. He has spend an infinity of nights thinking about it. He's sure that he is, well, sure. 

"Okay," Simon says and slowly nods to himself. 

"Okay?" Harry asks and blinks a few times. He must be dreaming. 

"Okay. We're gonna do it. I know just the right guy for this-," he hesitates. "For this endeavor."

"For what exactly?"

"For your coming out."

"So, this is really happening? You're fine with it?"

"I was expecting this sooner, to be honest," Simon says. 

"What? How?" Harry stumbles over the words. "Why?"

"Just a feeling," Simon says. He leans back into his chair. "Let's see how we're going to handle this," he says and types something in his computer. 

"So we're really doing it?" Harry asks again.

"Yes, Harry," Simon says while typing some more on his keyboard. "We're really doing it."

"Wow," Harry says in amazement. "I thought we could do a press conference."

"Harry," Simon says with just a hint of condescension. "Modern PR doesn't work like that. This is a huge story. We gotta be smart about it. And get a professional involved. I'll make the call. You should meet with him ASAP."

"Who?" Harry asks. 

Simon opens one of his drawers and digs through it for a moment. 

"Here," he says and hands Harry a card. 

Harry stares at the card that's just been handed to him. He really can't believe what he's reading, undeniably with his own two eyes.

 ** _When we step in, you step out._ **  
**-X. Ritz - Your professional coming out assistant.-**

"Is this a joke?" Harry asks. "This is not a real profession." Of course Harry doesn't know _all_ the professions. But he is pretty sure coming out assistant is not a real job. But apparently it is. And he's going to be a professional coming out assistant's client. Great.

"You're gonna like this guy, Harry," Simon assures him with confidence. "He's got a few big names on his list. Of course I can't tell you who. It's confidential."

"Of course," Harry says mockingly. "How much is this gonna cost? He must take a fortune so he can make a living out of it."

"Trust me, Harry," Simon starts again, and Harry really doesn't like the way he keeps saying his name. As if this is just a huge scandal to be handle and not in fact something deeply personal. "It's not a waste of money. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of everything."

"I don't know if this is the right thing for me," Harry contemplates. 

"Just give him a chance. I'll set up a meeting. "You can pull out anytime."

* * *

Not a week later Harry finds himself on a plane to New York. Because where else would a coming out professional have his office. Apparently this Xander guy is well known in the industry, but of course keeps a low profile to not be recognized by the general public. Harry has no idea what to expect. 

After he's touched down, Harry's being ushered out of the back entrance of JFK where a dark SUV is waiting for him. So far, so good. It seems as if neither media nor fans have picked up on his whereabouts yet. The driver takes him to his hotel where he enters through the back door again and checks in. 

His room is the perfect mixture of luxury and coziness. A huge bed is in the center of the room. He's got a flat screen TV, a desk, two comfy armchairs and a lovely view over the New York City skyline. The bathroom even got a Jacuzzi. It's perfect. 

He's got his meeting with Mr. Ritz first thing in the morning. Breakfast will be served in his room and his driver will take him downtown to Xander's office. He's not nervous because, to be honest, all of this seems a little ridiculous to him. If he was the one to decide, he'll still vote for the press conference. But he promised Simon to at least hear Xander out. And Harry tends to keep his promises. 

He takes a hot bath before he puts on a bathrobe and crawls under the covers. 

Room service wakes him with the alarm call he requested with his check-in and sends up breakfast shortly after, Baked egg-white in avocado and black coffee, just how he likes it. 

Harry decides to dress a little more low-key than he usually would. He opts for black trousers a simple black sweater paired with his full-grain leather boots and coat. He sneaks out of back door and hurries into the car that's already waiting for him. 

After he greets his driver and exchanges a bit of small talk, he lounges himself into the back seat and watches the busy city passing by outside. 

When the car comes to a halt after they reached their destination, Harry checks out the building he's supposed to enter. It's a lot smaller than he would have imagined. He's used to being into top floor offices of brand new skyscrapers to discuss career choices with label executives or the head of PR firms. This is definitely different. The building in front of him is a typical New Yorker townhouse with an ordinary front. Harry takes in his surrounding for a second, watches out for paparazzi or fans before he throws the door open and hurries to the building. There's a small golden nameplate next to the bell that just reads: Ritz - Personal Assistant.

"Well, he's not lying," Harry mumbles to himself before he rings. He's buzzed in a second later.

As soon as he enters the building's hallways the door to his right opens and a guy in his late twenties or early thirties appears.

"Harry?" he asks.

"Yeah, that's me."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Xander," he introduces himself and holds out his hand. "Glad you could make it."

Harry takes his hand and shakes it.

"Thanks for having me, I guess."

"Come in," Xander says and steps aside. Xander's office consists of two contiguous rooms. One seems to be for meetings as it has a nice sofa corner and a table with water bottles and only some ring binders in it. It also has a white board that Harry side-eyes as it reads: Coming out, coming home.

Harry just doesn't like the whole business built on personal struggles and a whole system of oppression. 

The other room has a large bookshelf with plenty of files and folders on it, two desks with two computers and two phones. 

"Have a seat," Xander says and gestures towards the nearest coach. It's white. Of course it's white. "I'll just get my notes," he adds and flashes Harry a tacky smile with perfect straight white teeth. 

Harry takes off his coat and sits down. It's one of those couches that are super comfortable at first but turn out to be a pain in the ass the longer you sit on them. 

"Would you like some water?" Xander asks. "I would offer something stronger but it's before nine and I have my own office policy to not enforce problematic behavior."

"What's problematic about some whiskey for breakfast?" Harry asks dryly. 

Xander's mouth drops open and he stares at Harry. He has beautiful lips, Harry has to admit it, and he looks cute with short light brown curls while wearing a soft cardigan, grey jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt. Harry waits for another second before he grins. 

Xander sighs in relief and then gives Harry a fake smile. "Ha," he says. "Good one. So water it is?"

Harry nods. 

Xander fills a glass with sparkling water and sets it down on the table in front of Harry. 

"So, Simon tells me you're planning to come out," Xander says. "First, let me congratulate you to that wonderful and brave decision."

Harry can't help but grimace at the whole thing. 

"I can promise you, coming here was the right decision. You're in good hands. I've been doing this for years and I work discrete and effective." Xander sits down on the other sofa. 

"Why would I even need your-," Harry gestures around the room. "Services? Why not just a press conference?"

"A coming out changes how the general public perceives your entire persona. A lot of people feel betrayed knowing they have been lied to over usually a long period of time. Additionally, a lot of people will feel, well, stupid to be blunt, as they believe they should have known or should have seen. Although I agree that sexuality is far more complex than stereotypes, this sentiment leads to very real anger issues. People don't like to feel stupid or feel betrayed. It could effect your record sales. A coming out that's less of a sudden shock would generally produce more positive headlines and make future business partners less hesitant to work with you. Those are only some of the biggest advantages though. There's also the reduced stress as you would not have to put up with rude questions, you would be able to overlook the whole process yourself, you and your team would be in absolute control, and there's the added bonus of a consecutive non-aggressive, non-invasive media buzz throughout the whole thing. The press conference, or rather your direct verbal confirmation will only be the last, but one of the least important steps," Xander explains to him.  

"This all sounds really nice, but is it really necessary?" Harry asks.

"It's not the only option of course," Xander informs him. "But you work in the entertainment industry, Harry. You are no stranger as to how publicity and public relations work. I get that you feel uncomfortable with your personal issue being handle like this, but I can assure you that that's how the industry works and that essentially nothing is off limits when it comes to image and representation. You know that people are not only interested in your songs or your music, they are interested in every other aspect of your life. And if you want to share it with them, you should better do it the smart way. No unintentional repercussions."

Xander opens his hands as if to say: I am not hiding anything from you and this is what I have to offer. Harry has his arms crossed in front of his chest and continues to keep them there. 

"How would it work?" Harry asks, still skeptical.

"A coming out as we do it basically consists of five phases. Phase one is called seeding. It's the basis of everything that will follow. The goal is to plant the idea in people's heads that maybe you have been gay all along."

"I have been gay all along," Harry interrupts him. 

"Of course," Xander says quickly. "I mean that you were technically not hiding as well as people would expect. I would handle most of the work in agreement with your team. It's mostly different articles softly linking you to the right people, LGBTQ+ issues and the community. The second phase is called feeding. It's were we will intensify this connection and essentially move it from the subconscious to the conscious mind. This would also entail your own effort with hints during interviews or concerts. The third phase will require most of the work. It's the phase of stunting. In order for the publicity stunts to feel and look natural the backstory needs to be developed and implemented while the first two phases are running on the side. This has the effect that when people will look back they will connect the seeds with the stunt and come to their own conclusion that you are not straight. During the fourth phase we will enforce speculation and run small test articles to see how the public reacts. During this stage the general public will already believe that they have it figured out and that they cannot be fooled anymore. The fifth and last step will be confirmation. It won't be a press conference though, unless you insist, but we don't recommend it. Usually it's a picture exclusive, front-page interview spread with a well known magazine. It can be with just you or your partner. Are you coming out alone or with a partner?" Xander asks.

"Alone," Harry replies. All this science feels surreal to him. It should really not be this big of a deal. 

"Then it could be an interview with you in your own apartment, for example, where you talk about how glad you are that you can finally be yourself etcetera."

Etcetera? Harry doesn't know if he wants to trust this guy with something that important to him. Yes, he sounds professional but also oddly detached from the whole situation.

"People will sympathize with you," Xander goes on. "And believe that they always knew. It's a win-win." Xander ends his speech with another fake smile. Harry hates it. 

"How often have you been doing this?" Harry asks. 

"Many times. I can't tell you how many times exactly, it's-"

"Confidential," Harry interrupts him once more. "I know."

"Discretion is very important in my business. You can trust me one hundred percent." Xander leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "One hundred percent," he repeats. 

Harry knows that Xander's body language and speech pattern are designed to make him feel safe and make Xander look trustworthy, but to Harry it just feels like a ploy to secure the business deal. Harry leans forward and mirrors Xander's position.

"Are you gay?" he asks. 

Xander is taken aback, Harry can see it in his eyes, but he holds his position like a pro and recovers himself quickly. 

"No," Xander says. 

"Then how can you know what you're talking about."

"I know the industry. I know the press. I know fandom psychology. I wouldn't have been able to start this business and keep it running if I wasn't successful. People don't just trust me despite my lack of personal experience, they trust because of it. To me, this is work. And it's how I handle it. I am good at what I do. I'll make sure my clients get what they want. That's all. This is not charity, this is hard business, and that's how people know I am the right person. I get the job done."

The arrogance is seeping out of every single one of Xander's pores and Harry thinks about calling Simon and blowing this whole thing off. 

"The whole process you described," Harry starts. "My team could do the same thing. Why get you involved?" he asks.

"Because besides me, you don't have to involve a third party. The more people are involved the more risks you take to be exposed before you actually want to come out. It's a lot of extra work for your team, while I already have a network and I'm going to pitch the articles as well as press releases."

"Well obviously we'd still have to involve a third party for the stunts," Harry argues. He's been stunting so many times, he knows it takes a lot of calls and negotiations and non-disclosure agreements before people can actually hit the streets. 

"No," Xander says. "That's gonna be me too."

"You?" Harry asks. 

"Yes, me."

"You?" Harry asks once more.

"Yes," Xander says. He seems to concentrate on being patient. "Me."

Harry can't help but laugh at that. "I'm sorry," he says, still laughing. "But how is that going to work?"

"People will get used to seeing you with-" Xander looks slightly uncomfortable, but he keeps his posture straight. "With men."

"People see me with men all the time. That doesn't mean they think, I'm dating any of them." Harry has friends. Guy friends. A whole group of them. Some famous, some not. And he hangs out with them all the time. Gossip has never emerged. 

"Well," Xander starts. "Simon told me, there were-," he hesitates. "Rumors."

Harry bites his lip to keep his expression from disclosing his surprise. He didn't know Simon already briefed Xander on the whole situation. 

"Yes," he admits. "But it was different."

"Because they were true?" Xander asks, but his smile gives away that he already knows the answer. Harry doesn't like seeing Xander win this easily.

"Yes," Harry admits begrudgingly. He doesn't like telling Xander about his private life. 

"How many people?" Xander goes on.

"You already know," Harry says in an attempt to call him out. 

"Two," Xander says. "The radio host and the other singer. Anyone else?"

"Why do you have to know?" Harry asks. 

"When you come out, those rumors will flare up again. People will get dragged into it," Xander explains.

"Dragged into it?" Harry doesn't like the way Xander talks about his coming out. He refuses to believe that it can hurt other people.

"You said you were coming out alone. That leaves room for speculation. People will dig into your past. I heard there were pictures."

"They're blurry beyond compare," Harry says. He's ready to admit defeat. 

"They will still look. The only way to make sure no one gets outed in the process of your own coming out or will be harassed with questions about a past relationship with you, is to provide new material. Hence, the stunting."

"With you," Harry says again.

"Yes, with me," Xander repeats for the third time. 

"Why not with one my friends?" Harry suggests. "It's how those bearding stunts are usually set up."

"Do you really want to involve one of you friends into a whole fake story line they have to keep up at all times, in private and public, put them out in the spotlight and make them lie for you for a long, long time? Everyone knows PR-relationship exists, but this is a whole different level."

"Different level how?" Harry asks.

"It will be more intimate than that," Xander explains. "It's not just to be seen with out for dinner. Or a quick kiss for the paps. Like you said, it takes more for people to look beyond heteronormativity. If they see you with a woman, they think romance. If they see you with a man, they think friendship."

"So what? You wanna make a sex tape with me?" Harry asks mockingly. 

"It's not so much about intensity as about persistence. The stunt phase will last for about eight to twelve weeks."

"Three months?" 

"It's better not to rush things. This is a matter of delicacy," Xander says and again Harry feels as if his whole existence is an inconvenience.

"Isn't it a little unprofessional for you to be the fake boyfriend?" Harry asks. 

"No," Xander says quickly. "I can assure you, I will handle the stunts with great care and professionalism. This is and will remain for you only. It's about what you are comfortable with. And I will work with what you give me. There doesn't even have to be any touches. I know from experience that a few supposedly private outings, for example at dinner, and some clever placed social media activity work wonders. It would be unprofessional of me to get laymen involved with this. You have no idea how fast people have ruined PR-stunts just because they were inexperienced. It's embarrassing."

"Yeah, I know," Harry says. He's learned that from experience when one of his partners fucked up a perfectly good outing years ago by engaging in arguments with his fans. He himself had messed up some stunts, by refusing to participate. It wasn't embarrassing for him in particular, but he's pretty sure the girl still holds a grudge. 

"I can see that you're not entirely convinced," Xander says. He's not lying. It might just be a bit too much information for Harry to take in at once. It's a little overwhelming. 

"I don't like the idea of spending three months with you," Harry says honestly. "Even less in intimate situations."

Xander grins at Harry. And Harry roles his eyes. What an arrogant prick.

"Take your time to think about the offer," Xander just says and ignores Harry's comment. "I promise you, it's going to be worth it. Not just for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asks. Maybe, just maybe his patience is coming to an end. 

"Look," Xander says. "I don't like sugarcoating. So here's the deal. Right now, you're a liability. For your management, your label, the people you've hooked up with in the past and all the girls that you paraded around as your "girlfriends"." He draws the quotation marks in the air with his fingers. "It's just a matter of time of until someone will make a sketchy Twitter account and start leaking your dirt. Or even worse, selling it to the press. A soft coming out, as we do it here, will not only protect you, but everyone else from being ridiculed or forcefully outed. That's all." 

The fake smile and the polite empty phrases from the beginning of their conversation are long gone. Harry can see now how someone can make a business out of someone else's desperation. And he can see now who Xander really is. A straight dude who is in it for the money and a true business man. Basically, he's like any other big name behind the scenes of the industry. With no shame in telling people how being closeted is not only inconvenient, but dangerous. As is their coming out. Making him the only solution to their dilemma. The same dilemma Harry experiences now.  

"You're an asshole," Harry says. "You might be smart, but you're an asshole."

"And you're naive," Xander counters and to Harry's surprise, it actually hurts him to hear these words. "Take a day to think about it. I still take this on, if you're in."

"Of course you would," Harry says and stands up. He's done and finished with this meeting. 

Xander moves to stand too and he extends a hand to Harry once more. Harry looks at it. He won't let Xander have the gratification of being the bigger person. No one has ever called him immature and he doesn't want this to change, so he takes Xander's hand. He hadn't paid attention before but he notices now, the soft skin in Xander's palms and the warmth that's radiating off of it. 

"Thank you for your time," Harry says. 

"Let me know what you decide." Xander replies.

* * *

 

As soon has Harry gets in the car that pulls into the traffic to drop him back off at the hotel, he calls Simon from his cell.

"Can't we hire someone else?" Harry asks. 

"How many coming out assistants do you know?" Simon asks. There are typing sounds in the background. Always the busy manager.

"Just one," Harry admits. "Can't we do it by ourselves?" Harry suggests. "Make sure we do this right, but with our own team?"

Simon sighs heavily and considers it for a moment. "We could. But with the upcoming album and the tour, I don't think we have the resources now. You'd have to wait after we wrap up the record promotion. If we mess this up, the label is going to kill us. Or sue. Which would be worse."

"I understand," Harry says. "It's just-, I hate this guy."

At the other end of the line, Simon laughs. "No one asks you to like him. It's your decision. But if you want it to happen this year, I suggest you let him work out a schedule and we see if we can adapt. You can still decide not to go through with it at any stage."

Harry takes a deep breath. "I guess, you're right."

"You want me to tell him?"

"Yes, please," Harry says. He might sound like a baby and not like a multi-million dollar pop star, but what are managers for.

* * *

 

 Four days later, Harry finds himself back in Xander's office, on his uncomfortable couch staring at his whiteboard. 

"Glad you're back." Xander says, fake smile back in place. 

"You work fast." Harry comments. 

"I only take on one client at a time. This allows me to be flexible and focused at the same time," Xander explains.

"Impressive," Harry says. He really doesn't need more of Xander praising himself and his own work. 

"Simon told me, I should work out a schedule for you to make a final decision. That's what I did." He lays out a stack of papers in front of him. I wanted to go over it with you first, in person, before emailing it to back to your management."

"Seems reasonable." Harry says. He tries to stay polite but it's really not easy. 

"So," Xander says and turns the first page and shows it to Harry. "This would be the schedule. If nothing changes of course. If something urgent and unexpected gets in the way, we can always adjust." 

Harry takes the paper and studies the spreadsheet.

"So, seeding would start," Harry reads the date again. "Next week?"

"Only if you agree. And if you want the whole process to start as soon as possible. I'll be good to go in about five days."

This time, Harry actually is impressed. 

"We'll seed the story for about two weeks, just very naturally making a soft connection, and then gradually intensify the link. I saw that you're going to be on a short break of the tour in which you have three different interviews, with only one printed. We'll make sure you get asked the right questions that will give you the opportunity to leave room for slight speculation. In about four weeks we could start with public outings. However, I would advise to only start in about six weeks. That will give us enough time to prepare the backstory. I will need you to meet with me about once a week to get everything in order. I think it would be most logical for us to have met through friends at a nice group event like a football game or a concert. Your choice. I have estimated about ten weeks of stunts. Don't worry though, the frequency of stunts will decline over the weeks and they will not interfere with your own schedule. There are a few lovely events that are great for casual appearances and I can easily join you on your tour for an amount of time." He points out some tour dates on the schedule in Harry's hands. "Afterwards we will let the press speculate. We should evaluate the whole process after the stunts, because essentially you will have to decide for how long you want speculation to continue. Basically, this means, at that point you will set the date for your confirmation, for your final coming out. It all depends on how fast you want things to move forward. However, I would need at least a week to set up the exclusive interview and I would not advise speculation to go on for longer than four weeks. Media moves fast, gossip even faster and you don't want people to have forgotten all about it the moment you confirm your sexuality, we should not wait too long. It would be a waste of effort. And money. So, if all goes according to plan, you could be out, with almost zero negative consequences, in five months max. Four seems more realistic. How does that sound?" 

It's the first time that Harry feels as if Xander gives him an honest look. He probably worked hard on the schedule in only three days to show Harry what's possible. Even though Harry is not a huge fan of Xander's work, the schedule looks pretty good. 

"Sounds good," Harry says. He meets Xander's gaze. "You really know how to do this, huh?" Harry tries to be funny in order to hide both, his surprise and nervousness. 

"Harry," Xander says, "I know we started off on the wrong foot. But like I said before, you can trust me. And I mean it. The moment you take me on, the success of this project will be just as important to me as it is to you."

They look at each other for a moment before Harry nods. 

"Where do I sign?" Harry asks. He still feels as if he's signing over his soul to the devil. But to be fair, the devil has the best offer.

"It's going to be the other way around," Xander explains. "Your team will set up the contract and I will sign as soon as I have my copy. You just have to let Simon know."

"Okay," Harry says and relaxes a little. "So essentially, this is on my terms."

"Of course," Xander assures him. 

"I guess we'll have an agreement." This time it's Harry who extends his hand. He's nervous about it, but can't really say why. 

"You won't regret it," Xander says, takes his hand and smiles at him.

Harry wishes he could believe him. 

 

 


	2. Phase I - Seeding

"So how exactly does this whole backstory thing work?" Harry asks. He's attending his first official meeting as Xander's new client.

"Have you decided if concert or game?" Xander asks right back.

"Game," Harry says. With his own tour still going strong, he could really use a day outside far away from amplifiers and stage lights.

"Cool," Xander says casually, as casual as he seems to handle anything these days. It annoys Harry to no end. He's not conservative or anything, but he still thinks Xander could wear something other than sneakers to a business meeting. No matter how intimate this whole thing is going to be.

"So, all you have to do is show up," Xander tells him. "Enjoy the game and be seen. I'll attend with a couple of friends and I'll make sure to post pictures that would place me there. And I'll have my friends post some too and tag me in it." 

"That's it?" Harry asks skeptically. 

"That's it," Xander replies. Confidence and routine obvious in his voice and posture. 

"Shouldn't we, I don't know, talk? Or something?" 

"Not necessary," Xander says. Talk about rude. Not like Harry wants to talk to him. But at least he makes an effort. "It's just so that people can connect us somehow. We could have easily met or been introduced. It's just for the story. There doesn't have to be any proof of us actually interacting." 

"Sorry," Harry says, because two can play this game. "How can we have easily met. I'm not your regular drunk dude at a football match." 

"Don't worry," Xander tells him. "I'll be with high profile friends." 

Harry blinks twice. Maybe three times. Seriously, who is this guy? Or rather who does he think he is? 

"I don't want anyone else involved," Harry says annoyed. 

"They won't know. Trust me. I would never involve anyone else if it was avoidable, and if it wasn't, I'd run it by you." 

Harry nods. He's already dreading those weeks he has to spend with Xander and actually look happy. 

"And after the game?" Harry asks to change the subject. He doesn't like feeling vulnerable around an arrogant dudebro like Xander. 

"You wait about twenty-four hours and then follow me on the social media platform of your choice. Just one account, with only one of your accounts. It should look natural, not desperate," Xander laughs and Harry wants to wipe that stupid grin off his face. 

"Don't go online to just follow me though," Xander goes on unfazed. "Pair it with other activities. Make a post, like something, follow two other accounts. People will pick up on it, but not make a connection yet. Don't mention the game on your account. It's sufficient if a few fans notice you at the game in the stadium. We don't want to make it too easy for them." 

"Anything else?" Harry asks. He's ready to go back to his hotel room. 

"In accordance with your team, we've launched the first articles. Nothing important. Two talking about how you're not afraid to wear women's clothes and appear feminine in general. Very positive, no talk about your sexuality. Both will come out this week. We used pictures from that award show two weeks ago. Two more articles will be out after the weekend about your music and the tour with hints to your gay fanbase. And one article speculating about possible collaborations that mentions Sam Smith and Mary Lambert that will be out mid week." 

"Clever," Harry comments. It sounds sarcastic, but he knows it is actually a clever move.

"Do you have any other questions?" Xander asks. "I know it seems as if we're juggling too many balls, but I assure you everything is going according to plan. We are involved in every step and have full control over every article. And we're keeping an eye out for any interference." 

"Interference?" 

"For example another A-lister coming out, ex-beards trying to use you for publicity, gossip articles trying to spread lies that would lead to conflicting narratives. We got eyes and ears out behind the scenes for anything that would create unnecessary buzz." 

"All this for what?" Harry says more to himself than to Xander. "For me to love who I love? Seems excessive." 

"It is what it is," Xander says dismissive.

"It's not fair that's what it is," Harry says and looks at Xander in contempt. He's sick of himself somehow expecting Xander to be more sensitive, more aware of the injustice. 

"What do you want from me, Harry?" Xander asks and leans back, bringing some much needed distance between them. "I'm doing my job. If you want to save the world, do it. I'm not stopping you. I'm trying to make this as easy for you as possible. Others don't have that opportunity. You should be thankful." 

"Don't tell me what I should be thankful for. You don't know my life." 

"Nor do you mine." 

"Believe me, I know guys like you. Everyone knows guys like you. The straight guy, the overachiever, the golden kid, the sports lad, the frat boy." 

"Don't you think, I know your type as well? I've been doing this for years. You've got millions on your account and yet you think everyone's been ripping you off. You think media treats you too harshly, you complain how the Grammy's ignore your music for no reason and about the long hours you put into your work. You think asking people to donate to charity is actual charity when you have never stepped foot into a soup kitchen. You make a song to raise awareness for poverty while you drink champagne straight out of the bottle. You think people should be amazed by how polite you are when it's common courtesy. You want a medal for being socially aware, but guess what, a lot of people are. A lot of people put more effort in making the world a better place with fewer resources. But you think you deserve a cookie for having your social media team tweet about the deforestation. It's not my car whose interior is laced with fine wood. It's your private plane. And through all of it, you cry about the lack of privacy and invasive fans when you don't even realize how lucky you are to be able to just step outside and see how important you are. How you matter. That's your biggest flaw Harry, you don't even see how lucky you are. And it's not because of the money, or the fame, or opportunities. It's because your existence matters, while everyone else is lost in insignificance."

It's not like Harry doesn't already know that Xander knows how to talk, how to make great speeches, but in no way was he prepared for this. Half of the shit he said reeks of jealousy and bitterness, but the other half had hit Harry where it hurt. He was appreciative of fans, he was grateful and he was aware of his own privilege, but he had never considered that his fame was not just personal success that obviously came with many downsides, but that even the downsides were what most people were never granted throughout their whole life. It makes him feel like shit. It makes him feel ashamed that Xander called him out on something that essential, while all Harry did was call him a college boy. 

Only four months, Harry reminds himself. Afterwards he won't ever have to see Xander again. 

"Nice speech," Harry says, pretending not to be affected. "Should have gone into politics." 

"Isn't that where your kind ends up after their career ends?" Xander counters and Harry is ready to slap him out of pure frustration. He had definitely underestimated Xander. His intelligence, wit and rhetoric. 

"So you think you're better than me?"

Xander sorts. "See, that's how insecure you are. I don't think I'm better than you. I simply refuse to believe that you are any better than me." 

Harry knows his hand is shaking out of anger by now, so he shoves it into the pocket of his pants. 

 "What are trying to do?" Harry asks annoyed. "Do you want me to cry? You want me shut up? To quit? You want me to admit that I'm a spoiled brat? Fine. I'm not perfect, I make mistakes and yes I am used to a lot of luxury, because this is literally my life. And I can't just swap it for someone else's." 

"Don't pretend that you would though," Xander says, not giving in.

"You're just a huge dick," Harry says. He truly ran out of good arguments so he's falling back into his twelve-year-old self.

Xander grins. And ever so slightly opens his knees a little wider. Harry wants to throw up. Yes, he's tempted to throw a glance south, he's only human after all, but he has more pride than that. 

 

* * *

 

"I have to kill him," Harry mumbles to himself as he exits the building. "What a gigantic prick," he whispers. "Mr Professional Coming Out Assistant. Assistant my ass," he rambles under his breath. "More like professional smartass. When we step in, we'll call you out," Harry mocks. "Can't even wear proper shoes to a fucking business meeting. Or a belt. Or Shave. Frat boy meets hipster." Harry can't stop his anger from bubbling out of him. "I'll help you come out, no homo though," Harry says and imitates Xander's voice and accent. 

When he reaches the car he throws himself on the backseats and stares blankly out of the tinted windows. 

"Insecure," Harry mumbles again. "Am not insecure." He takes out his sunglasses from the bag that he'd left in the car and puts them on. It's not because he's a pretentious person, but because he doesn't see any reason why the driver should see him cry. Which he is actually doing right now. Congratulations Xander Ritz for making him cry like a baby because he's being yelled at. Not even yelled at.

'Don't take it personally,' Xander had said, but Harry doesn't understand how he could not take it personally. 'Seems to come with the job,' Xander had added and Harry refuses to acknowledge that every famous person is somehow ignorant. 'See you next week,' Xander had said then before he'd stood up and waited for Harry to walk himself out the door. 

"I should just fire him," Harry says to himself. "I'm so gonna fire his ass."

 

* * *

 

Harry doesn't fire him. He'd honestly considered it, was ready to let Simon know that he was blowing the whole thing off, when he'd stumbled over a picture of his ex, well, technically, his two exes, while scrolling through his twitter mentions. 

 **"Brocode Broken?"** read the headline. **"The Rogue - Singer spotted snogging Pop Princess. Harry Styles furious."** It linked to an online article of a gossip magazine. Harry was too tired to go through the whole thing, so he just skimmed through the lines. 

_"...After secretly dating for two weeks..."_

_"...Caught kissing at a restaurant..."_

_"...Insider tells: Harry Styles deeply hurt..."_

_"...was hoping to get back together with the Starlet..."_

_"...had confided in his friend for advice..."_

_"...Bromance over..."_

_"...chose love over friendship..."_

_"...thinks she's the one..."_

Of course, there is no chance that an insider would have actually told them, as Harry hadn't even known about the whole new romance thing until then. He had no clue if it was real or not, since he wasn't in contact with either of them. What he did know was that neither of them were straight. And that he wasn't furious at all. He just felt a million times more exhausted. He was tired of fake relationships, of PR-stunts and never ending list of beards for boys and girls all around him. 

When Harry had reached the end of the article, he could see that it had already been edited. 

_" *****Update***** A spokesperson for Harry Styles has reached out to let us know that Harry is very content with his single life at the moment while being on the road and preparing the launch of his new album WINGS which will be out next month. He wishes the new couple all the best and can't wait to see them again at the VMA's in two weeks. The singer is nominated for three awards. _

_Pre-order WINGS here or buy a ticket for one of the upcoming shows of Harry's FIVE SENSES Tour."_

Apparently Xander was indeed on top of his game, monitoring articles to make sure they wouldn't interfere. And he'd done a brilliant job. Making Harry seem likable, happy and took the opportunity to promo the awards, tour and album all while issuing a denial. It was brilliantly done.

'Just four months', he'd told himself again, four months, eight weeks of stunts, one fake relationship and then no beard ever again. Maybe putting up with Xander was worth it. At least it was worth trying. 

* * *

That's how Harry ends up going to the game on Saturday, just like he was told. Two of his closest friends are tagging along, as does his personal bodyguard. Harry's not particular into sports, but he has a favorite team in every discipline. He feels it makes life more exciting if you're rooting for someone. He takes a few pictures with shy fans and gets himself a huge basket of nachos. After all, this is work and he's allowed to compensate by treating himself. They're sitting in VIP-area overlooking the whole field. He spots Xander a few rows down, not VIP section anymore, but in the more expensive ranks. His entourage is of high profile, but they seem more content to mingle with the crowd than Harry and his friends:

An actress that Harry knows from a hyped up TV show, her actor boyfriend, a singer Harry has never talked to who took a break after the birth of her baby, the singer's husband who's a rather well known hockey player, and her sister. And Xander. In blue jeans and jersey with a snapback over his curls. 

Harry should just watch the game, yet he finds himself glancing over the group of Xander's friends every few minutes. Somehow watching them is even more entertaining for him than watching the game. Xander is drinking his second beer and jokes around with the hockey player. The singer and her sister take some selfies and Xander photobombs one of them. Harry can't help but smile at it. He shakes his head and reminds himself that it is in fact not that funny to have Xander around. He takes another picture with the actress and snaps one of the field with his own phone. It reminds Harry that he has to follow Xander's account soon. 

'Can't help to be prepared,' Harry thinks and pulls out his own phone to search for Xander's name on his app. 

It's easy to find and rather impersonal. Probably intentionally. All professional. There are a few pictures of New Yorker sights, a few of a huge black cat, two selfies with the same actress, a picture of five guys playing lacrosse, and one picture of Xander's face. 

Harry carefully taps it, to open the picture. It's breathtaking. From a strictly aesthetic point of view of course. It's a picture of Xander lying on his front on the beach. At least that's what Harry guesses because his hair is wet and there's white sand under the arm Xander uses to support his head. His eyes are closed and some grains of sand are sticking to his cheek and his right eyebrow. Xander's eyelashes stand out dark against his skin. A few drops of saltwater glister in the sunlight that frames his face just right. Xander's lips look a bit chafed, not in a bad way, just in a way as if he's been kissing someone throughout the whole night. There's a little stubble around his chin and jaw.  

"At least he's not as good looking in person," Harry mumbles to himself as the crowd cheers over a touchdown. He shuts off his phone and throws another glace over to Xander's group. The snapback he's been wearing has moved over to the singer's head while her sister is sitting on Xander's lap. 

"Typical," Harry sighs and decides it's exactly the right time for a bathroom break. 

Being rich bears one important advantage. No queues in front of the toilets. As Harry pushes the door open, thinking he's going to be alone, he jumps in surprise as he almost runs into the actor boyfriend who's about to get back to his group. 

"Woah," Harry almost shouts. "Sorry."

Boyfriend actor smiles. He wasn't startled as bad as Harry, but he still looks like he wasn't expecting to run into anyone else either. Or run into Harry specifically. 

"No problem," he says. "My mistake."

"No, no," Harry says. "I shouldn't have been so careless. That door could have hit you in the face."

Actor boyfriend laughs at that. "I guess my insurance would have covered a broken nose. But the studio would have sued me for prolonging production," he jokes. 

"They should always write injuries in the script," Harry plays along. "Come on, a broken nose? Every story needs a fist fight. Or a motorcycle accident? Maybe a loose parrot?"

"Smart and practical," actor boyfriend says and smiles. "I like that. You're Harry, right? Harry Styles?"

"Yep, that's me," Harry says. He feels a little uncomfortable. The industry is small, but not this small and he knows the guy, knows his face, has seen it on TV and maybe in some indie movies, but he can't relate any name to him. He honestly wishes it would be the other way around. 

Actor boyfriend seems to sense his discomfort and extends a hand. "Austin," he introduces himself. 

Harry returns his smile, relieved and thankful, and shakes his hand. "Nice to meet you," Harry says. Austin's a good looking dude, of course he is, since he's working on TV and is probably set up to break many hearts of boys and girls out there watching him every week. 

Austin's smile brightens a bit more at Harry's words and he rubs his neck after he's let go off Harry's hand. "I'm a big fan," he says. Again, Harry feels awful and awkward because he doesn't even remember any of Austin's works.

"Thanks," Harry says. "That means a lot," he adds to distract from the fact that everything he has to offer in return are empty compliments. 

"I love the new song," Austin says and Harry really, really wishes he would just stop. 

Harry forces another smile and awkwardly gestures to the urinals behind Austin. "Sorry, thanks a lot, but I should hurry to, you know, and then get back to my friends. They're waiting for me." He feels so bad. "Was really great meeting you." He says and hopes it sounds at least almost sincere. 

"Yeah, sorry," Austin says. He nods but doesn't move out of the way. "Good luck for the album," he says and holds out his hand once more. "I'll make sure to buy a copy."

"Thanks," Harry says out of reflex and takes Austin's hand again, even though he is slightly confused about the whole exchange. This time, they don't shake, it's more of a really weird hand holding with Austin sliding his thumb over the back of Harry's hand. His fingertips brush over Harry's wrist and - Oh. Oh god, no. When Harry moves his eyes from their joint hands to Austin's face he notices the slight blush and the way Austin wets his lips. 

"And good luck to you," Harry says quickly and pulls his hand out of Austin's grip. "I really should get going or else I might suffer a little mishap," he adds and looks down at his crotch. "Need to get some relief." 

"I can-," Austin starts, obviously not ready to give up just yet. "Help you with that." Austin follows Harry's gaze down to his crotch. 

Harry's eyes widen at the insinuation. He can't quite follow what had just happened. "I'm good, thanks," Harry says and he has no idea why he would ever thank Austin for the offer, but apparently he just did. "Not quite the relief I meant. Just had a lot of soda today," he grins and pushes past Austin who's still standing in the doorway. 

"Of course," Austin says shyly. "Sorry, I thought-," he says and faces Harry once more. "This is sort of a known spot," he explains and Harry wants to bang his head against the wall.

"Uh," Harry stumbles. "Then, I guess, I'll have to apologize. I didn't know."

"No," Austin says quickly. "Sorry, I didn't meant to make you uncomfortable. I'll just leave." He gives Harry a quick smile, before he hurries out the door. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Harry crams his phone out of his pocket and pulls up his messenger. He scrolls through the contacts until he finds Xander's name. 

**\- need to talk. ASAP-**

he types and hits send. He's so nervous, he's walking up and down the bathroom. He sends another text right after.

**\- seriously, this is urgent -**

He taps impatiently on the back of his phone until it vibrates just a few seconds after. 

**\+ where are you? +**

**\- bathroom -**

Harry replies with shaking fingers. He's stressed beyond compare. 

**\+ i'll be there in a sec +**

The next few minutes are pure torture. Harry hops from one foot to the other, throws his head back and takes a few deep breaths. Shit. 

When Xander finally pushes through the door, Harry is flushed with red blotches all over his cheeks, neck and probably chest. 

"What happened?" Xander asks and eyes him over. 

"You didn't tell me you had another client," Harry hisses. "Why the fuck are you lying to me?"

"What?" Xander looks confused, but Harry has no time for his stupid games, or lies, or whatever. 

"I want my money back," Harry snarls. "And I'll sue your ass for breach of contract."

Xander tenses visibly. He's starting to look as distressed as Harry feels. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He asks in an angry whisper. Both of them are trying to keep their voice down, knowing what they're talking about can never be heard by anyone else. 

"Austin?" Harry offers. 

"What about him?" Xander asks in confusion. 

"He's gay," Harry just states. 

"No, he's not," Xander says and sounds a little too offended for Harry's liking. 

"Well, he's not straight either, because he just hit on me. When's his coming out, huh? What _phase_ is he in?" Harry spits out. 

"He's not my client," Xander says. 

"He just happens to be a random closeted gay celebrity in you little clique?"

"Yes," Xander says through gritted teeth. 

"Stop lying."

"I'm not lying."

Xander pinches his nose. Harry was curious as to what it would take for Xander to lose his cool, but he doesn't like this scenario one bit.

"You're kidding me right? Stop playing the shocked little boy."

"I didn't know," Xander says, holding up both hands in defeat.

"How is this going to work now? If you're telling the truth. If you didn't know about him and he doesn't know about your job. How are you going to explain to him that _you_ are going to be _my_ new boyfriend in not even _three_ weeks when he will read speculation about how you and me met the same day he fucking hit on me in the toilets?"

Xander takes a few steps back and leans against the cold, tiled wall. 

"I can't believe he's using her as a beard," Xander says to himself. "She has no idea."

"As much as I understand what this means in terms of personal drama, can you please focus on me for a second? On us?" Referring to Xander and him as 'us' feels surprisingly heavy on his tongue and Harry swallows to get rid of the feeling. 

"I'll figure something out," Xander just says. 

"Oh, you just figure something out? Sounds trustworthy. A-plus, Xander. What a good business strategy," Harry starts mocking him.

"Will you just shut up for a moment," Xander says harshly. "Stop panicking."

"Did you tell them? Did you tell your friends about me? Is that how he knows?" Harry asks. 

"For the love of god, no! I didn't tell anyone." 

"Then how does he know?" Harry asks. He knows damn well that Austin had probably no idea before, but took Harry's presence in the bathroom as confirmation. But Harry doesn't trust Xander, wants to see if he's lying about Austin not being a client. 

"I don't know," Xander says annoyed. "Maybe he heard the rumors."

"People don't offer hand jobs on the ground of rumors," Harry argues.

"Oh for god's sake," Xander curses. 

"Oh," Harry says full of sarcasm. "I'm sorry, is this making you uncomfortable?"

"I can't believe he's been lying to me all this time. To her." Xander is still having a conversation with himself on the side. 

"Says the guy that pretends to be gay for a living. So what now, huh? What's you usual excuse? You gotta have a story right? To tell your friends? When you're out there stunting with random celebrity men?"

"I work as a PA," Xander says. "I have a legitimate reason to be seen with those men."

"But you're not a personal assistant, Xander," Harry hisses once more, taking a few steps towards him. Xander's still leaning against the wall. "You are a reverse beard. You are a fake boyfriend. You are a publicity stunt to be executed and then disposed off. And now, one of your friends, who is living the same shit, is going to start asking questions. Asking questions about why you are spending so much time with Harry Styles, soon to be out pop star." Harry doesn't care if he's hurting Xander with his words. If he ever had an ounce of trust left for him, it's gone now.

"He won't ask questions," Xander says, but he can't even convince himself. Harry's right in front of him now, just a foot between them. "He knows I'm straight. He knows I work in the industry."

"You know what," Harry says, he puts his hand next to Xander's head with his fingers splayed on the tiles, and moves his mouth closer to Xander's ear. "These two words really must work magic for you. 'Straight'," Harry almost whispers into his ear. "And 'Industry'," Harry repeats. "But you're underestimating the whole situation. He knows, that I know. And now one of his friends will suddenly start working for me. He will panic. He will be scared that I blow his cover. He will be scared of rumors once there will be rumors about me not being straight. There will be rumors about him and me. About this day. There are always rumors. And he will want to cut every single string that connects him to me as soon as he realizes that I'm coming out. And that will include you. And before you know it, I will have an NDA on my desk and then your whole little backstory will be worth shit for I won't be allowed to talk about this day, or be associated with this day ever again. And our little stunts? He'll beg you to quit as soon as you start."

Harry breathes in Xander's cologne. It smells masculine, musky and tickles uncomfortably in his nose. 

"We'll think of a new one," Xander says. He doesn't move. Harry feels his breath against his neck. "A backstory." 

"If you don't manage to scratch this day off our entire history, and his, we will pull someone else out of the closet with me. And it won't be one of my friends. But one of yours," Harry says in a more threatening tone that he was aiming for. "And that one, will be on you."

"I said, I'll think of something," Xander says, voice thick with anger. "Trust me."

"If you don't, I'll make sure you'll never be able to take on another client ever again. You'll be bankrupt just from paying an attorney if I decide to sue." 

"I didn't breach the contract," Xander says. He's breathing heavy now against Harry's skin.

"You just got a third party involved without my permission, asshole," Harry says. "Bet you wish, you would have set up your own contract now and have me sign onto your terms."

"Fuck. Off," Xander whispers into Harry's ear, before he shoves him back. 

"You should get back to your friends," Harry says casually, unimpressed by Xander's attempt at roughhousing. "Better not tell them you were here though," he fakes a smile. "Heard this was a known spot for some gay fun. Wouldn't want your friends to think, you were into anything else than pussy, right?"

"You're pathetic," Xander says and Harry thinks maybe he's right. Maybe Harry went too far. It's too late now though, to take any of it back.

"See you next week, Xander," Harry says and leaves.

 


	3. Phase II - Feeding

"Not your job," Harry reminds himself. "It's not your job to deal with this. That's what PR-teams are for."

The digital clock on his nightstand reads 04:06 AM. He's not going to call Simon at four in the morning on a Sunday. It would be insane. Plus, he should give Xander at least twenty-four hours to think of something, anything to get them out of the mess they've stumbled into. 

But Harry can't sleep. He's scared that this whole coming out thing might end up being canceled. And then he might end up having to wait at least another year. And not by his choice. He's been thinking about it for five hours straight. Maybe he should beat Austin to the whole NDA thing and have his lawyers send him a nondisclosure agreement before Austin gets a chance. That way, Austin might be convinced Harry doesn't even want to come out. He might still feel threatened if Xander would start appearing with him publicly though, knowing that Harry knows his secret and was hanging out with one of this closest friends. But they could still use the game as backstory as he could only prohibit Austin from mentioning that he met Harry at the urinals until Harry would have an official coming out. They could not use the backstory to enable speculation, but at least they would have a reasonable back story once people would look back. It's possible that rumors with Harry and Austin would pick up then, but there's nothing Harry could to about gossip. It would be Austin's job to handle his own rumors. And Xander's and Austin's friendship? It was the least of Harry's concerns.

Still, it is Xander's job to cooperate with his team and keep them updated about anything that happens and might threaten their progress. It is Xander's job to call Simon and confess his fuck up. It is not Harry's job to tell on him. 

When the sun starts peeking through the blinds Harry finally falls asleep. 

He's startled awake a few hours later when his phone starts buzzing on the wooden nightstand.

Harry tries to ignore it, thinking it might just be a message, but it keeps going, so he throws himself around and blindly taps on the screen and puts the phone to his ear.

"Yeah?" he answers, voice full of sleep. 

For a second there's silence before the phone vibrates again against Harry's ear. Harry jumps in surprise and drops the phone as he scrambles, all tangled up in his sheets. He throws the blanket aside and retrieves his phone to answer it with open eyes this time. 

"Yeah?" Harry says once more. 

"It's Xander." 

"What time is it?" Harry asks. He's desperate to know if he'd still be allowed to yell at him for calling early on a Sunday, one of his rare free Sundays. 

"Half past one," Xander says unfazed by the question. 

"Fuck," Harry just says. He wants to sleep for at least three more hours. 

"I just wanted to let you know that I took care of the situation," Xander says, his tone is nothing but professionally detached. His confusion and shock from yesterday completely wiped out from his voice. 

"Really?" Harry asks. "This fast?"

"It's my job," Xander replies.

"I know," Harry assures him. "It's not like I could forget with you reminding me every two days."

"Okay, so I'll see you Monday at my office." Xander says, ignoring Harry. He's probably trying not be provoked into another argument.

"Wait a second," Harry interrupts him. "Aren't you going to tell me how you resolved our little problem."

"Should be enough for you to know that you have nothing to worry about."

"Did you-," Harry pauses and lowers his voice. "Did you get rid of him?"

"I didn't know you had humor," Xander says dryly. "But then again, you're not funny."

"Oh come on, Xander," Harry starts. He drags out the vocals in Xander's name to tease him. "I bet you're trying really hard not to laugh."

"Yeah," Xander says. "Almost dying here trying not to lose composure."

Harry snorts, and ... wait, since when are they bickering? Harry's smile turns into a frown. And then his eyes widen in shock as he realizes that one of his hands and snuck down to his stomach, playing with the waistband of his boxers. He's not hard, was not teasing himself. But it felt intimate nonetheless. Harry pulls his hand back up so fast he almost hits himself under the jaw. Harry would never start kink shaming, but he should reevaluate why the guy he hates more than anything makes him feel comfortable enough to play with his happy trail. Maybe Harry just likes their power play. Especially when he comes out on top. Figuratively speaking of course. 

"So what did you really do," Harry asks. Trying to steer the conversation into familiar waters.

There's nothing but silence on the line.

"Uh," Harry starts. "Hello?"

"Yeah, I'm still here," Xander says. "It's not important, okay? I took care of it."

"How is it not important?" Harry asks. "I think, I should know. My team should know."

"Austin's going to stay quiet about the whole thing. Don't worry about it."

"The more you tell me not to worry, the more I'm starting to worry. Why don't you just tell me what's going on?"

Xander stays silent for another few seconds before he takes a deep breath.

"I told Austin that we were together. Sort of."

"You did what?" Harry asks. He almost jumps out of bed. 

"I told him you were waiting for me in the bathroom."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Harry can already see the head lines. 'History Repeating Itself: Harry Styles Hooks Up With Gay Lover In Public Bathroom'. 'Harry Styles Confirms Gay Rumors Where They Started Five Years Ago - In A Public Bathroom'. 'Harry Styles Exposed: All About His Gay Love Affair With This Man'. God, he hopes they at least pick a decent picture of Xander to attach to the article. Maybe his Instagram beach photo. He would approve of that. Still, this is not what he wanted.

"I told him we were seeing each other. Dating. Casually," Xander says. "But that it was getting serious."

"Why would you say that?" 

"We were going to hint at it any way. With our stunts, right?" Xander says.

"Yes, but we were never going to confirm that. To anyone. Ever." He doesn't have to let it be known just how appalled he is by the idea of people actually believing he would be with someone like Xander. Especially Xander. But Harry is sure, Xander feels the same way about him. 

"It was the logical thing to do."

" _How_ was _that_ the _logical_ thing to do?" Harry almost shouts. 

"Will you just stay calm?"

"How can I stay calm if my personal coming out assistant is nothing but incompetent and unprofessional," Harry says in his anger. He's not sure if he means it like that. Xander has proven to not be totally incompetent after all.

"Hear me out, okay?" 

"I am hearing you out, but all I'm hearing is trash," Harry says. Maybe he's just as unprofessional as Xander. Then again dealing with this, is definitely not his job. 

"Harry," Xander tries again. "Will you put your personal dislike for myself aside for just a second, sit down and hear me out?" There's a small pause before Xander speaks again. "Please?"

Xander asking Harry like that sends him into a small shock and Harry automatically sits down on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sitting down," he just says. Because he's not going to admit that it might have been the little plea at the end that had Harry collecting himself.

"Okay, listen. I told him we'd been seeing each other for a bit. Not long ago. That I applied with you and your team to be your personal assistant a few weeks ago. That that was how we met. I told him, we both knew the other would be at the game and wanted to meet up for, well, stuff."

Harry huffs at that, but he doesn't want to interrupt Xander from telling the rest of the story.

"I told him that you told me that he hit on you." Harry's opens his mouth to speak, but Xander goes on quickly. "I had to, okay? I told him, you were a bit freaked out. And that I was shocked too, obviously. I told him that we would keep it a secret, but that he can't use anyone to play his beard if the person doesn't know. I just can't keep lying to one of my closest friends that happens to be his girlfriend. I told him that you considered coming out, but that you would do it with me and that he doesn't have to worry about anything."

"But I'm not coming out with you," Harry insists. "I'm coming out alone. You were just supposed to help me being linked to guys rather than girls. But I was never officially going to call you my boyfriend."

"You don't have to," Xander assures him. "I'm going to tell Austin and, well, basically all my friends that we broke up. And all you have to do is tell the press that you have been in a recent relationship, but that it's over. People will assume it's me anyway. Nobody is going to dig deeper when there will be pictures of us right under their nose."

"So you just casually told your friends that you were gay?" Harry asks.

"Bisexual," Xander corrects him. 

"Are you?" 

Silence. 

"Xander?"

"No," Xander says. "I don't know. Isn't everyone?"

"Bi?" Harry asks. "Not me."

"How do you know?" Xander asks. "How do you know you could never fall in love with a woman?"

"Is that how you feel," Harry asks. "That you could maybe fall in love with a man."

"I haven't met every single guy on the whole planet. So how can I assume I could never fall in love with any of them? Just because it hasn't happened yet."

"Do you fantasize about it?" Harry knows he's being an asshole. He's just surprise by this recent revelation. He's not keen on thinking about Xander as anything other than a money-grabbing straight fratboy, but it seems he has to get used to the thought. 

"I think you're being unprofessional now," Xander just says. 

"Yeah, you're right," Harry agrees. He doesn't even know which masochistic thread in his body even wanted to know whether or not Xander fantasizes about being fucked by a guy. By someone like him. Or him. Whatever. It's not like picturing it would be enjoyable. It's not. Really not. "I'm not going to lie to my family or friends. If they ask me, I'll tell them that you are my PA. And I won't refer to the relationship as love in the exclusive interview. I'll tell them it was a few dates. So I had a few dates with my PA. Nothing spacial about it. It didn't work out, you were hurt, so you left to work for someone else. End of story and we'll never have to see each other again. 

"Fine," Xander agrees. 

"You'll have to play being heartbroken in front of your friends for a bit. After all, you thought we were getting serious and would have our coming out together."

"Obviously," Xander says. 

"Nothing worse than being dumped by me."

"Are you enjoying this?"

"The alternative would be me suing you."

"Yeah, it's the worst," Xander says mockingly. 

"See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow."

Harry is about to hang up, when Xander calls his name once more.

"Uh, Harry?" 

Harry has no idea why his heart starts beating slightly faster. And he honestly doesn't want to get into it. He must be really lonely.

"Yeah," Harry says. He doesn't sound not as cool as he was planning to.

"Don't forget to follow me later today. One of my accounts. The public backstory is still on."

"I'll try to remember," Harry says. He doesn't know what's wrong with him. It's just so hard for him to be genuinely nice to Xander. 

Harry listens in, just a few seconds, after he's finished talking, hesitant to end the call. He pulls himself out of it a moment later, hangs up and throws the phone across the bed. 

"What the fuck," he says to himself. "Are you five? Why would I wait for him to hang up first." He slaps himself gently and decides to take a long, medium tempered shower. 

 

* * *

 

On Monday, Harry shows up at Xander's office for their weekly meeting. He still hates it. More than any office he's ever been in. Yes, it looks nice and cozy, not too fancy. It's always warm and friendly, but Harry detests the whole purpose of the office. Even though they have a plan now, even though things are well on their way, Harry still hates that he's paying Xander good money for something that shouldn't still be necessary. He really needs to learn how to accept this whole situation. Otherwise, being with Xander, appearing to be close with Xander will be nothing but a pain in ass. 

"So," Xander starts to explain to Harry the next steps. They could have talked about everything on the phone yesterday, but Harry has to admit that the business setting helps him getting emotionally detached. Maybe that's Xander's secret as well. "We're still having those three articles coming out this week. The ones I told you about during our last meeting. One today, one tomorrow and one more on Thursday. The responses to the two fashion articles from last week were mostly positive. We had some great tweets from famous outlets about them. I'm confident that the one that's coming out later today will be just as successful as it will be published on a popular entertainment website that's especially targeting a LGBTQ+ audience. I hope the article on Monday won't disappoint either. But the audience is a bit more conservative. We consider it a test article to see just how many of you conservative fans will feel alienated by the focus on the gay fanbase. If the response will be less enthusiastic, it won't change our ultimate outcome." Xander snorts quietly at the unintended pun. It almost makes him seem human. "But we can adjust our further steps a little. After all, we do try to keep most of your fans. The easiest reaction would be to launch a more emotional campaign. To romanticize the whole situation a little. Your fans love you and they want you to be happy. We can always rely on that. And a big love story is a big love story. Gay or not. We can always use this to our advantage. The article about possible collaborations should not pose any obstacles. People will read into it if they want to, or they'll focus on your music if they're not interested in any gossip. We've had some issues with articles mentioning you being jealous over the relationship of-"

"I've seen them," Harry interrupts him. He is grateful how Xander had handled the whole thing but he has no desire to talk about this with Xander in person. "You did a good job."

Xander seems to be taken aback by the compliment, loses his thought and has to check the papers in his hand. "Um, yeah. Okay, so, our early interference basically had every other article mentioning our denial and your  _generosity_ was received positively. Those articles didn't hurt our schedule. It turned out to be, in fact, a good opportunity to let people know you've moved on and that you don't want to be involved in any high school-esque drama."

"Good," Harry says and gives Xander a small smile. 

"I've contacted our media partners for your interviews next week," Xander goes on, his face all serious. "But I can brief you next Monday about the questions we've blacklisted and those we've allowed. This week you can focus on your own schedule. I would only ask you to show a bit of social media presence and either like or comment on one of my posts. Any questions?"

"I'll only have to actively get involved next week?"

"Yes," Xander tells him. "We have your upcoming three interviews on our schedule and the VMA's. And I'm keeping an eye out for current political issues that would allow you to make a statement. Nothing too controversial. Just to show your support."

"You know I'll be back on tour after the VMA's right?" Harry asks. 

"Yes, don't worry. You'll be able to focus on your concerts while I keep monitoring the progress in the meantime. I'll join you about two weeks later. I'm going to fly to San Diego in time for your concert. Anything else?"

Harry thinks for a second but than shakes his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Good," Xander says. "I've noticed you followed me yesterday while following two other accounts. That was smart."

"You don't have to praise me for basic tasks," Harry says. Seriously. He's not that insecure. "I'm cooperating without you buttering me up."

"Okay," Xander just says. He hasn't smiled at all today. "I guess that would be all. I'm sorry, you had to come in for basically nothing. But then again next week will be our last meeting for a while and we won't be able to talk in person for three weeks, so I guess it might still be good to communicate as much as possible now, when we still got the chance, even though it might not be necessary."

"I agree," Harry says. He was annoyed having to come in this morning, but he doesn't want to fight Xander who seems tired and emotionally exhausted. "I have one more question," Harry says tentatively. 

"Yeah?" Xander says while he's already piling up his papers.

"How are you?" Harry asks. He honestly wants to know. "After the whole coming out thing? With your friends?"

Xander looks up at Harry in surprise. "I'm okay," he just says. "Thanks."

"You don't seem okay." Harry tells him flat out. "Are your friends okay, with you being bi? For now?" Harry still doesn't know if Xander truly identifies as bisexual simply because he admits there is a possibility he might fall in love with a guy, one day, maybe, if the stars align, if the moon's positioned right, when fish start to fly and he meets his soulmate, a male Megan Fox.

"Most of them," Xander replies. 

"What do you mean most of them? You didn't get into trouble because of this whole thing, right? It's not worth it."

"Worth it?" Xander says angrily. "How do you know if it's not worth it. You're the one who threatened my whole business and career and promised me bankruptcy even before a court ruling."

"I didn't-," Harry starts.

"Yes, you did. It's fine, Harry. This is my job. We ran into an interference. I resolved it. It was my choice. Don't pretend to be concerned now."

Harry is not pretending, though. But he knows how it must look to Xander. Still, Harry thinks Xander's being unreasonably cold. And rude. Harry knows rejection. He's working in the entertainment industry after all. It still stings. 

"Fine," he says. "Remember that no one needs homophobic friends anyway," he adds and heads for the door.

 

* * *

 

Harry spends the next week rehearsing a few new songs, he schedules two sessions with his personal trainer and attends the final meeting about his upcoming album. He has to approve the latest changes in design and the choices for the next single release. He makes sure to busy himself as much as possible as he already dreads his next meeting with Xander. At least after that he doesn't have to see his face for almost a month. 

When he sees Xander's face on Monday, a week later, he notices that it doesn't look any better than the last time he saw him. Harry tries not to stare. He tries not worry. 

"I've got good news," Xander says after both of them sit down in their usual spots across from each other on Xander's couches. "All three of three articles have received positive feed back. That means we don't have to make the whole story more dramatic than it already is. Of course your fanbase and even a broader audience are looking forward to your new album and possible collaborations in the future. No matter with whom. They just want you to have some more exposure to different audiences. In general, the fact that you are aware and appreciative of your LGBTQ+ fans improved your image even further in your progressive audience. Somehow even your more conservative audience enjoyed the article. It seems as if they think you are a bit of an  _excentric sexually ambiguous rock star_ anywayand that by being fans of you, they can indirectly support minorities without actually having to interact with them, since you got that covered." Xander frowns. "Basically you allow moderate homophobes to remain homophobes by pretending they are allies since you are one and they love and support you. I couldn't quite believe it myself, but that's what your PR-team told me their research revealed."

"Wow, okay," Harry says. "That's a surprise. Any other good news."

"This morning I received all the information we requested on the interviews," Xander starts again. "We have blacklisted only two topics, that ridiculous rumor that you stole someone's song,- I heard your lawyers were on that anyway so it's better not to say anything about it publicly-, and any questions about a possible record label change. We've discussed blacklisting past relationships, but decided that it would be better for you to state personally what we've already issued under your name to the magazine two weeks ago. Just say that you are happy with your life as it is and that you wish only the best to all of your past partners. If you want to, stay gender neutral in your choice of words. Try to keep that up whenever love interest, celebrity crushes or romances are brought up. Luckily, our media partners seem very professional as the majority of the questions are about your music, the album and the tour. There will be the occasional questions about life one the road, questions about what you usually do when you feel lonely on the tour bus, questions about your work out and your personal future. I don't think you're going to run into any problems. Your team will be by your side to make sure everything goes as planned. All three interviews are taped on Wednesday, but I was told that only one interview will be released the same day, while the other two will air a week later, after the VMA's."

"Do I need to prepare anything for the award show?" Harry asks. 

"Be prepared for awkward question as you will probably have a run in with the new couple. They will try to use you for publicity again. Stay calm. Talk about the performances, the guests, talk about your own album. If it's possible, laugh the situation off. Try to be as open and casual about the situation as possible. We need everyone to see that you have moved on. Choose your outfit wisely. Something brave, with a statement. People will be preoccupied to report on your outfit and put any drama between the lines. It really depends on you, but I've seen you on the red carpet and I'm pretty sure you can handle it." Xander tries to act casual, but Harry notices how he nervously plays with his pen, moving it around between his fingers. 

"Thanks," Harry says. He misses their banter, the honesty they would throw at each other. All this feels a bit too vanilla for his taste. "I'll try my best."

"There's one more thing," Xander says carefully. "You forgot to interact with my social media account like we've discussed it last week," Xander explains. His professional exterior and the way he's acting is starting to piss Harry off. He knows he fucked up though.

"I'm sorry," Harry says. "I completely forgot. You could have called me? Reminded me?"

"It's not that urgent, it's just important that we keep our connection active until we begin being seen together. That's why I only brought it up now. Just remember to do it this week."

"Fuck Xander, is this really how it's going to be? This-," he flails around. "This mess? This doesn't even feel like a business relationship. This feels like pure torture," Harry says.

"Glad we're on the same page."

"How is this going to work, huh? When we're supposed to be _intimate_ with each other? Are you still going to use your business talk on me?"

"Suddenly you want to be friends?" Xander asks skeptically.

"No," Harry blurts. Maybe a little too fast for it to not look like an insult. "I just don't like this either. I liked when we were honest with each other. No matter how much it hurt." It's the first time he's even admitting to himself that Xander's words had hurt him. And that he had said a few things knowing that they would hurt Xander in return. "This whole thing is based on lies and stunts, but at least you were honest with me. I might hate you, but at least I was able to trust you."

Xander swallows.

"You never trusted me." He says with a hint of contempt. "You only started to trust me after I proved myself to you with that article. And not five days later you accused me of lying to you and breaking the terms of our agreement. And now you're annoyed because I'm over our little games."

"At least you admit it was your game, too."

Xander stares at him blankly. "What?"

"It wasn't just me then," Harry says. "You played along just the same. You loved making me feel like shit."

"Your overestimating your importance, Harry. But I guess that what happens when everyone else is so far up your ass they can kiss your liver."

Harry can't help it. He's grinning from ear to ear. "Gotcha," Harry says through his smile.

"Fuck off, Styles. I got work to do. Don't forget to go online sometimes soon."

"I guess I'll see you in a few weeks then."

"Do me a favor and clean your tour bus before I have to move in."

"Shut up," Harry says. He's still grinning. 

 

* * *

 

Just as Xander had predicted, the interviews go well. Surprisingly, well. Better than most of his interviews this year. It helps Harry relax. The interviewers are friendly but professional, and he manages to participate in the second phase by dropping some hints that gender is really not that important to him. Maybe Xander was right, and even Harry had in himself the potential to fall in love with any gender if only the right person came along. After he's done giving interviews he pulls up his phone to show some online presence. He tweets his thanks to the interviewers and media partners for the pleasant time, uploads a picture of the buffet that had been prepared for the day and likes three more pictures. One on Simon's account of his own tour schedule, a second one from his favorite clothing brand and the picture of Xander at the beach. Go big or go home, he tells himself. Xander had uploaded two new pictures in the meantime: The one he took of the field during the game and one of a sunflower on a balcony. Xander's balcony probably. Harry thinks, both of them are boring. And he's not going to like a random cat picture just for the sake of it. He does wonder if the cat is Xander's though and who will take care of it when Xander will join him on tour. 

His attendance at the award show turns out to be a success as well. A floral suit seemed to be just the way to go. Everyone on the red carpet compliments him and Harry is smiling throughout the whole evening. He's managed to carry the confidence and the good mood from Wednesday onto the weekend. All in all, he feels really good and ready to get on stage again. He wins two of the three awards he was nominated for and dedicates the one he got for his single _Happily_ to all his fans who are struggling at the moment, hoping they'll soon find the same peace and happiness Harry had found too. Harry is pretty sure he'd sent one clear message. That he moved one from any heartache he supposedly had and is rumored to still have.

One of his fans gives him a small rainbow colored heart button and thanks him for his music when he stops to take pictures on his way outside. He puts it on his blazer right away, and takes another picture. Xander would be proud.

 

* * *

 

On Sunday, Harry stuffs the rest of his personal belongings into his bag, before he checks out of the hotel. His driver will take him to the airport so he can fly out to Toronto, where his next concert will be. Before his tour break he's already been playing throughout Europe. The next three months he'll be spending on a bus touring through North America. Xander will join him in two weeks and stay with him for another ten. It's going to be hell. They can hardly manage to be around half an hour without a fight. Harry has no idea how they're going to survive being together day and night for ten weeks. 

When Harry stands at the door and takes one last look around his hotel room, his phone vibrates in the pocket of his coat. It's a notification that someone added a comment under one of his pictures. Someone being Xander. Harry receives thousands of comments on a daily basis, so it's not a notification for his own account's activity,- which he has turned off-, but for Xander's account. Harry can't really remember that he'd turned them on after he'd followed Xander or liked his picture, but apparently he had. Someone from his team had uploaded a snapshot of the tour bus with the caption 'On the road again' which is the post Xander had commented on.  

'Break a leg & see you soon'.

Harry is pretty sure that Xander is indeed wishing him good luck, but he's not ruling out that Xander secretly hopes Harry would literally break a leg on stage too. 

 

 


	4. Phase III - Stunting

Being back on stage feels amazing. The crowds are amazing. Every single time. It took Harry three or four shows to get used it again. His body needed to get used to the extra exercise every second or third night and his voice needed to get used to the amount of work he puts it through. Harry played his first three shows in Canada, in Winnipeg, Edmonton and Vancouver. It took him the whole week to get used to sleeping on the bus again, to showering in his dressing rooms at the venues, to occupy himself when he gets bored.

They moved on to Seattle then, to Portland, Oakland and then to San Diego, where they are going to play tonight. 

His entourage consists of three sleeper buses,- one for him and two for the band as well as permanent crew members-, the catering truck and another truck for the equipment. Harry spends most of his time on his own bus, but occasionally hangs with the crew on one of the other buses. No one can get particularly lonely on the road. The buses for the crew and band are huge modern double-decker buses that each have the capacity for sixteen people. Harry's bus is smaller, just a single-decker coach. He's got space for eight people, but it's just him and his driver James. Harry loves James. He's the best diver in the world. And the best person in the world. Next to his driver seat in the front of the bus is an extra seat where Harry sometimes spends his sleepless nights and plays road trip games with James. Between the two seats is the entrance to the rest of the bus. Behind the driver, a flat screen TV is installed with a two-seater across from it. Behind the seats is a small kitchen unit and across from it the first two bunks. The bus has a small toilet, located behind the kitchen unit and in front of a second door, in the middle of the bus. Four more bunks are on the right side of the bus, and two bunks on the left side behind the middle door. At the end of the bus is a sofa corner that can be separated through sliding doors from the rest of the bus. It's where the artist can spend some time reclining and getting a break from the turmoil around them. But Harry has never used it, yet. The space is already limited, so he allows everyone to go in there and relax. During the day, Harry's bus is still crowded but not as much as the two big sleeper buses.  

James, and the other two bus drivers sometimes use the separate couch area to take a nap instead of sleeping in their own bunks in the front of the buses. With eleven other people on each bus, the double-decker coaches are much louder and busier than Harry's smaller bus. The drivers have to sleep during the day, after they arrive at the venue and then later drive throughout the whole night. Harry still spends some of his day time hours on the bus and so do most of the staff members who only work before or after the show, but James and the others still needs some undisturbed sleep to be able to drive safely. Harry doesn't mind that his bus has turned into a safe spot and a quiet place. The drivers have an even harder job than Harry and it happens often that bands are not really appreciative of their drivers. But they belong to the crew as everybody else. Without James, Harry would not feel as safe and homey in the bus as he does now. And he's super grateful for it. Harry sleeps in one of the bunks like everyone else. There are options for star buses with bigger private areas and queen size beds, but Harry doesn't want it. He's fine. He doesn't need much space anyway. And technically he could demand a hotel room whenever he wanted to. 

Until now, he'd used the remaining seven beds in his coach as junk bunks, meaning he's storing all his clothes and bags and the rest of his belongings on there. But now, Harry has to at least clear two bunks. Or maybe one and a half. One for Xander to sleep in, and a bit of space for him to keep his own luggage. 

Once a week, they all stay at a hotel to sleep in a real bed and get some proper breakfast. They got TV's on the bus, video games and books, but they hardly get a chance to have a real breakfast together. Harry's also brought his own guitar, the one he doesn't use on stage to be able to work at new songs.

Today's their show in San Diego, the first one Xander will attend. The first of twenty-four shows. 

* * *

 

**Week One - San Diego, Phoenix, Salt Lake City**

 

"So?" Harry asks, wiping his face with a fresh towel after he arrived backstage. "What do you think?" 

He didn't have a chance to talk to Xander before the concert because his flight was delayed and he arrived only after Harry was already on stage. 

"Not quite what I expected," Xander says. He's been watching the show from backstage with Simon, which is not as much fun as watching it from first row, -at least in Harry's opinion. But Xander is not yet to be seen excessively. And a friend in the special guests area always draws attention. 

"You don't like the music?" Harry asks. "Let me guess, not cool enough for you?"

"No, it wasn't the music," Xander admits. "I just didn't expect you to-," he thinks for a moment. "To do that." He points with one hand in direction of the stage. "I mean, I don't think I have seen strippers as eager as you to grind on a pole. I thought this was a family show."

"I wouldn't worry about that, I don't think any stripper would be eager with _you_ in the audience."

"Then how come you were?" Xander asks with a devious grin. 

"I was just dancing," Harry insists. He throws his towel at Xander who dodges it effortlessly. 

"Yeah, it's called  _exotic dancing._ "

"It's called entertainment."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, it was very entertaining."

"I think you're enjoying this a little too much for a guy who insisted to be straight not four weeks ago."

"Even straight people appreciate a good dance move."

"So this is a compliment?" Harry asks. 

Xander shrugs. 

"Good talk, glad you enjoyed the show. Welcome to the Styles Five Senses Tour. You want me to show you the bus?" Harry asks. He's exhausted himself and he's looking forward to get some sleep. It will take another few hours before they've packed up everything and can hit the road again. But Harry's job is done. And he's beyond grateful that he's got a crew for the rest of the work. It's not at all unusual for smaller bands to play a two hour gig and then end up packing everything back up for another two or three hours. 

"Yeah, thanks," Xander says. He grabs his luggage, a suitcase and backpack, and Harry stares at it for a little too long. "What?" Xander asks.

Harry shakes his head. "I thought you'd be bringing something less-," he grimaces at the bag, "less flashy."

"It's blue," Xander says and looks a little helpless. 

"I can see that. I think everyone in the radius of two miles can see that."

"It's just a backpack. Relax," Xander says a little annoyed. 

"I wish you'd given yourself the same advice when you bought it," Harry says dryly. 

"Are you going to show me the bus or what?" Xander asks. 

"Yeah, follow me." 

Harry starts to make his way through the venue to the back entrance. 

"There's a few things you should know," Harry starts while they walk through the stadium. Xander just a little behind Harry. "We're a steady crew of thirty people. Thirty-one with you now. Thirty-two if you count Simon, but he doesn't sleep on the bus as he usually flies in. He has to arrive at the venues before the trucks to make sure everything is in order. Please, try not to piss off anyone, 'cause everyone works their asses off and they have no time for PR and relationship business."

"You didn't tell them, did you?" Xander asks and stops dead in his track.

"Are you kidding me?" Harry turns around and urges Xander to keep on walking. "I'm not new to this. The more people know, the greater the risk for leaks. I'm not stupid," Harry assures him. Finally Xander starts walking again. "No one knows anything. I don't think anyone cares what I do. Or with whom. The only people who know are you, me and Simon. And my PR-team back in London." When Harry passes a huge box with water bottles he takes two and continues walking.

"Good," Xander says quietly. He's still a few steps behind Harry, lacking the familiarity with big venues. 

"Everyone knows you're here for me, and me only. As my personal assistant. And guest. They don't know we're supposed to be-," Harry lowers his voice a little. " _Dating_." It's not like there's anyone around, but Harry still needs a bit of time to get used to their _thing_ before he'll be more comfortable talking about it. "You can walk around freely at any venue. You'll get your own all-access pass," Harry explains as they get closer to the exit. "So here's what you have to know. You should take notes," Harry says and flashes Xander a quick grin. Harry still knows how it felt on his first tour. How it felt being the rookie, the new guy, the one with no clue how things were handled. But he got used to the whole circus soon enough. And Xander will too. "Rule number one," Harry starts as the pass the back entrance. "You'll get two key bands. Keep them on you all the time. I'm not joking. All the time. One is your venue pass, the other is the bus key. Don't you dare lose either of them."

"Okay," Xander says. He looks a little tense, but Harry can tell he is giving him all his attention." 

"Is this your first time on tour?" Harry asks, as they come to a halt in front of the buses. The light summer breeze cools Harry's skin that's still feeling hot from his performance.

"Are you asking to make fun of me?" It's one of those rare moments in which Xander loses a bit of his business cool and shows signs of stress.

"I'm asking because I know it can be overwhelming at first. Being on tour. The whole situation. Too many people, too little space. Falling asleep in one city, waking up in the next. It's not as much fun as people believe."

"Then yes. It's the first time I'm joining a client on tour." 

Harry wants to roll his eyes on how Xander phrased his sentences, but he knows it's to hide his insecurity. He'll get back at Xander later. 

"Okay, so," Harry starts again. "Key bands. Don't lose!" He shows Xander his own two and uses his key to open the bus. Rule number two, never ever slam the doors. Ever. There might be moments when some of the guys or girls invite you over the sleeper buses for video games or drinks or just to hang out once you've gotten to know everyone. And believe me, you will. This is a small space and everyone is really close. So try to fit in as best as possible. If you ever go onto one of the other buses, or this one," Harry says and points to his own bus. "Do not slam the doors. You don't know who might be sleeping. Everyone works at a different time, and everyone sleeps at a different time. Just don't slam the doors." Harry waits for Xander to nod. "Good. This baby here-," he puts his hand on the door, "-is where you and I sleep. And James my driver. His name is James. Get used to learning names. Don't be rude and refer to anyone by just their job. We're all part of the crew. 

"Understood," Xander says. He looks slightly intimidated. 

"Let's get in then," Harry says. Even though it would be more polite to let Xander climb in first, Harry leads the way. There's not a lot of space to switch positions, so it's better if Harry goes in first instead. 

"This is one of the smaller buses," Harry explains as they squeeze along the small aisle in the middle of the bus. It's still crowded sometimes. There is no space and no privacy," Harry turns around to throw Xander a sympathetic smile. "We get to sleep in hotel rooms about once a week. To make up for it." As they pass the small kitchen unit Harry stops. "Rule number three," he announces. "Never ever turn on any of the electrics while we're parked at the venue, including microwave and TV," he says pointing back to the flat screen behind him. "Okay?"

"Okay," Xander says and nods.

"You can sleep in the bunk across from mine, if that's okay? We usually use the lower bunks as junk bunks. You can put your stuff under your own bed over here," Harry says and points to the lower bunk that he's cleared of his own clutter earlier. "Or here," he says and points to the small storage above his own bunk. "Paddy, one of my security guards usually sleeps on the empty bunk next to yours. But he moved over to one of the other sleepers, so I would still have enough space to for myself with you here. There's a chance he'd still might sleep here every now and then. Depends on my schedule. If I feel like going out late, he should rather sleep here than risking disturbing anyone in the other bus. James sleeps in a bunk in the font, in the driver's area, but he sometimes naps in the back," Harry explains. "Rule number four, never ever leave the bus at a gas station without letting James know. Since people sleep, no one will check whether you're on the bus or not. You don't want to get stranded. Always keep a bottle of water in you bunk," Harry says and throws Xander one of the bottles he picked up earlier and throws the other one in his own bunk. "There are showers at the venue and in the hotel rooms. Not on the buses. We have toilets, but use the one at the venues or during our stops if you can. It'll save people a lot of nasty work. Did you bring warm socks?"

"Sorry?" Xander asks confused. 

"Warm socks. Air conditioning can be a pain in the ass. I'll give you a pair. Everyone should have a pair." Harry crams around in his own storage area. "Here are some socks and a flashlight. There are lights in the bunk, but they're too dim to read. You should always keep a flashlight in your bunk as well. And anything valuable. Like a laptop. If it gets crowded, people don't look where they sit."

"That's a lot to take in, but I think I got it." Xander says and puts his stuff into the storage above Harry's bunk. 

"We have our laundry done at the hotels. But as we're quite a few people you usually only get to do it every second week. We have catering at the venues with our own kitchen crew. Lunch is usually a few hours before the show. They have their own bus. Most of our supporting acts are local bands from the city or from around the area who we give an opportunity to play in front of bigger crowds."

Xander looks around the bus in the dim light. He still seems a little uncomfortable.

"Try to make you feel at home. It's hard, but feel free to roam around the bus as much as you like. If these are closed," Harry says and slides the doors at the end of the bus shut, "-it usually means someone is sleeping in there. If they're open," Harry starts to explain and slides the door back open, revealing the nice couches in the back, "-you can go in and watch TV or just relax. You can also watch TV and play video games in the front of the bus." Harry gives Xander a moment to take everything in. "Are you going to be okay?" Harry asks. He's honestly a little worried. 

"Yeah," Xander says, his voice is quieter than usual. "I think so."

"I know, we tend to have shitty arguments, but seriously, if you need anything, just ask. Even something as simple as a burger, or a new pair of boxers or headphones. This is hard on everyone, so make sure you got everything that makes this a little less stressful."

"Thanks," Xander says and gives Harry a small smile. 

"I mean it," Harry assures him. "I won't make fun of you for that. It takes a bit to get used to."

Xander just nods. 

"I think I'm going back in to take a shower before we leave. If you want I can show you the venue and introduce you to some people. There should still be food."

"Sounds good," Xander says.

"Just one more thing," Harry adds. "Just because there's no one sleeping in here besides us, doesn't mean that this bus is any less busy than the others. A lot of people access this bus multiple times a day. Julia, my vocal coach, for example. Or my stylist, Caroline. Simon and Jeff, my tour manager. Basically everyone. Just so you know."

* * *

"So who's the guy in the back?" James asks. Harry had been exhausted after the gig in San Diego, but the shower and late dinner snack had brought some of his energy back. Xander is soundly sleeping in the back of the bus, while Harry is hanging out in the front, checking the responses to his concert online with his phone while James drives them through the night. 

"Xander," Harry just says. "PA."

"He seems nice," James tells him. Harry is not really in the mood to talk about Xander. He still wishes he wouldn't have to lie. He promised himself he would keep the lies to a minimum, so his plan had actually been to talk as little about the whole thing as possible.

"Yeah, he's-," Harry hesitates. "Nice, I guess."

James laughs. "Nice, I guess?"

"He's very good at his job," Harry admits, staying as close to the truth as possible. "He can be a bit of dick sometimes. Because he knows he's good. Simon thought it was a good idea to get me some help with PR and stuff on tour. Everybody else is in London."

"Makes sense," James agrees. "It's a lot of work. You okay with him staying on my bus?"

"Yeah," Harry says. "I'm the only person he knows. I think we can go easy on him. It's his first tour."

"You worry about him?"

"I'm just being a decent human being," Harry says. 

* * *

 

Harry goes to bed shortly after 3 A.M. when they still got about five hours to drive before they'll arrive in Phoenix. There's not going to be a concert that day, but the venue crew will have to get the stage installed for sound checks and rehearsals today.

He spends most of his day working on new songs and sleeping in his bunk. He's not interested in babysitting Xander, even though he can sense he's having a hard time trying to fit it. While James sleeps in the front, Xander spends the day huddled up in the back, working on his laptop for as long as his battery lasts before he switches to paper work. Harry doesn't care. He has no idea what kind of paper work a professional coming out assistant has to file. And he doesn't need to know. 

Harry is busy preparing the setlist and show for the concert tomorrow. The only times he spends with Xander is during lunch. He still sees him around, mostly with Simon, sometimes with Jeff, or Lou, his hair stylist. Harry tells himself that Xander will be fine. He'll make friends, he'll get used to sleeping on the bus and being on the road. 

On stage, Harry feels more self-conscious than ever before. He knows Xander is not in the audience up front, but backstage, and Harry feels irritated, imagines how Xander is laughing about his dance moves and making fun of him in front of Jeff and Simon. When the show is over, Harry is only half-content with his own performance. 

He spends another sleepless night in the passenger seat next to James. They've got a fourteen-hour drive up to Salt Lake City ahead of them. They're gonna take a break in between, of course, so that James and the other drivers can get a proper break. 

"You haven't had trouble sleeping during the first two weeks of the tour. Haven't seen you like that in a long time," James says carefully.

"I'm just thinking a lot," Harry admits. 

"Thinking, huh?"

"Been writing a lot, too."

"You're next album is almost out. Shouldn't you take a break?" James asks. 

"Nah, that's not how it works," Harry jokes. Well, he tries to put in a joking tone. The pressure from his label to produce new songs is extreme. And from the forty-something tracks he usually writes, only ten will get the label's approval. Leaving him with the option of writing about twenty more in hope that five more will be greenlighted, or singing someone else's songs. The pressure combined with the limited creative freedom was what made Harry consider leaving his label.

"Does he make you nervous," James asks with a nod to the back, where Xander is sleeping.

"He wishes," Harry just says and opens another bag of peanuts. 

* * *

 

"So," Harry starts casually. Him and Xander are lounging in the back, while James sleeps in the front. They're halfway between Phoenix and Salt Lake City. The whole entourage had stopped in a truck park so that the drivers can get some hours of rest. Usually they try to catch a service area with some kind of restaurant, so everyone else can grab some junk food. Not today though. "Do you wanna play travel scrabble?" Harry asks. He's beyond bored, but too lazy to change buses and hang with the band or the crew. Zayn from the band had been texting him non-stop from the other bus that he should come over, but Harry hasn't put on socks since he went to bed around four in the morning and he's not planning to until he's got sound checks in the morning after they arrive in Utah. 

"You're joking right?" Xander asks, looking up from his book. 

"Nope," Harry says throwing his phone to the side. "You want to?"

Xander considers it for a moment before he neatly folds one of the edges of the page he's on and puts his book to the side. Harry thinks it must say something about his character, but he can't figure out what. 

They play for hours.

* * *

 

The next day turns out to be hell. Even though they arrived late in the evening, stage construction can only begin the morning, leaving little time for sound checks and rehearsals. The sound quality in the stadium is the worst they've encountered this far and everyone struggles to get their work done in time. The show is a disaster, with sound failures and technical troubles. Harry himself messes his lyrics up a few times. When he gets on the bus shortly before mid-night, Xander is nowhere to be seen. Harry crawls into his bunk and falls asleep right away.

They leave Salt Lake City behind around two in the morning with an hour delay. Packing up had taken longer than planned, but no one could precisely say why. Harry wouldn't even have known about their delay, but he's woken in the middle of the night by a few voices outside the bus, talking quietly. The door must be already opened. It takes Harry a moment to recognize that it's Simon, Jeff and Xander. 

"We've had bad concerts before," Jeff says. "It was a tight schedule. We knew it'd be risky."

"I'm worried it will affect his performances during the next shows," Simon says and even though Harry still feels like he's half asleep, he's hurt by the lack of trust. 

"It won't," Xander says and Harry is even more offended by the fact that Xander has to defend him. 

"It wasn't our fault," Jeff argues. "Venue crew was a joke. We did what we could, but everyone had been working for three today. Including Harry. The crowd felt different as well."

"Normally, I wouldn't care, but we're having a four day break. Denver is not until Wednesday. I have nothing to sell to cover up the bad press," Simon says honestly and Harry bites his tongue. He doesn't want to get involved, but he's angry still.

"I'll think of something," Xander says, and Harry is seriously getting fed up with this guy's hero complex. 

"I trust you," Simon says. 

"What the fuck," Harry whispers to himself.

"I'll see you guys in Denver," Simon says at last, before everything falls silent for a second until Harry can hear Xander climbing into the bus.

Harry pulls the curtains of his bunk to the side. He fell asleep in his sweaty stage clothes and should really get changed soon.

"You're trying to become my tour manager next?" Harry asks annoyed. 

"I though you were asleep."

"And I thought your job was to plan my coming out, not take over my whole PR. Last time I checked Simon was still my manager."

"You could use some good press and we were supposed to stunt on Sunday anyway so the press could pick it up on Monday. We'll just have to think of a quick way to get you some good press a day early. Just to get us over the weekend," Xander says as the bus starts moving. It's a ten hour drive, but that means they will have to stop for the drivers to take a break in between. They won't be in Denver until late in the afternoon. Harry has no ambition to make a public appearance after spending an additional fifteen hours on the bus.

"We?" Harry asks, eyebrows raised. "There's no 'we'. You're not part of my PR-Team. Get it into your head. Simon can talk to me personally or have someone from London call me. I won't jump, just because you tell me to."

"Are you fucking kidding me," Xander says annoyed. He takes off his jacket and throws it into his junk bunk below his temporary bed. "Public relations is my job and I'm already here. People think I work for you anyway. What's the big deal? You know what I'm capable of. I've already saved your ass twice." He yanks his shirt off and tosses it in the same direction as his jacket. Harry blinks twice before he can register what is going on. Xander is shirtless. In front of him. In the middle of a fight. It's not fair, because it takes a lot for Harry not to stare. What he noticed already is that Xander's chest is a lot more hairy than is own. And that he's not tattooed. And that his stomach is definitely more defined than Harry's. Fuck.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Harry asks. He can't even remember what Xander had said before. 

"Getting changed," Xander says without batting an eyelash. 

"I can see that."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because," Harry starts. He doesn't really know where he was going with this. "Because it makes me uncomfortable."

"It makes you uncomfortable?" Xander asks in surprise. "I had three people warning me about your exhibitionist tendencies, two people telling me you've kissed them while you were drunk after a show and I was even warned of your slight foot fetish. Is that why you told me to wear warm socks even though you never wear any?"

What?

"What?" Harry stares at Xander who stares right back at him. Still shirtless. "I do not have a foot fetish," Harry says. "I don't wear socks, cause my feet don't get cold."

"I've heard something different."

"Who have you even been talking to?" Harry asks as he scrambles out of his bunk.

"I did what you wanted me to do. I talked to people. Learned their fucking names, engaged in conversation. Establishing connections. Interacting with your co-workers on social media. Making sure everyone can later trace our relationship back to the moment I joined you on tour. All while you have been ignoring me."

"I have not been ignoring you. I have been working, for god's sake. I even let you play travel scrabble with me!"

"You let me? You mean, you begged me?"

"You," Harry starts and puts his index finger on Xander's naked chest. For a second, both, him and Xander, stare at the spot where their skin connects. "You," Harry starts again and begins to poke Xander, accentuating his words. "Loved. Every. Second. Of. It."

"Because it made me forget about your foot fetish after you've been flaunting your naked toes at me all day."

"I do not have a foot fetish!"

"But you do have four nipples."

Harry gasps for a second. "Who told you?"

"I never disclose my sources," Xander says and glances down at Harry's finger once more. Harry still absently taps it against Xander's chest.

"It was Zayn, wasn't it? He always tells lies about me."

"So you don't have four nipples?"

"I do, but I don't have a foot fetish."

"Show me."

"How would I show you that I don't have a foot fetish?" Harry asks.

"Show me your nipples."

"No!" Harry says and finally pulls his finger back as he crossed his arms protectively across his chest.

"Let me take a picture," Xander says.

"What kind of pervert are you?" Harry asks offended. "Check your own fetishes."

"Let me take a picture so we can post it online. It'll be a nice distraction."

"My fans aren't superficial like that."

Xander grins, then snorts and finally grunts in laughter. "Please," he says. "Your fans aren't superficial like that?"

"They aren't into my body like that."

"You're kidding, right?" Xander asks, suddenly very serious. "You posting a shirtless selfie would trend on twitter within minutes."

"If I looked like you maybe," Harry says with a dismissive nod towards Xander's abs. 

"You can't be serious," Xander says again.

"I have a hollow back, a soft tummy and love handles," Harry says annoyed. "And four nipples. Not the average description of sexy."

"Harry," Xander starts, but then just stares at him. "Will you let me take a picture, please?" he asks and even though Harry can feel the echo of his plea deep down in his chest once more, he keeps his arms crossed and takes a step back.

"No," he says. 

For a moment they just look at each other, both at a loss of words.

"Will you let me take a picture of your feet?"

"Fuck you, Xander. I'd rather go stunting with you than let you take a picture of any of my body parts."

"Fine," Xander says. "I'll think of something else." 

* * *

 

"Bowling?" Harry asks again. He's not sure he's heard right. They're half an hour from Denver and still have to figure out how to get some press besides the gruesome concert last night.

"Bowling," Xander says. "You, me, the band, the crew. "We're staying at the hotel anyway until Tuesday morning when we leave for the venue. So we gather everyone for a night out. The crew can sleep in tomorrow and enjoy their two days off. The two of us still do our coffee date on Sunday and see what the press and fans pick up from it on Monday when Simon arrives."

"You're not going to call the paps to a bowling bar, right?"

"We'll just let everyone take pictures and post them online. The fans will notice and keep an eye out for the everyone involved in the tour. They'll have a blast watching the videos and tweets we'll post even though they're at home at their computers. No restrictions. Everyone can take pics and videos. We'll show the world how close everyone on tour really is. I doubt Denver has any paparazzi ready to send off anyway. And I'll book a bar with a back entrance. We'll show up and leave through the back door, no chance of getting mobbed."

"Fine," Harry says. "I'm in." He's too proud to admit that it's another brilliant idea.

* * *

 

To Harry's surprise everyone, including bus drivers and kitchen crew join their bowling night. Xander worked his ass off to convince a bowling bar to let thirty people in on short notice. Luckily there's one bar, just a bit outside the city center that isn't too busy. Unusual for a Saturday night, but Harry guesses, it was meant to be. 

They all check in their hotel first and while everyone else decides to walk from the hotel to the bar, Harry and Paddy take a cab, hoping it will limit the probability of Harry being noticed right away. 

The night is a blast. And a success at that. Everyone has a great time spending time with each other, taking silly pictures and posting videos of their bowling skills online. Harry stops worrying for a moment, lets himself get lost in the present. He makes sure he's in at least two pictures that Xander will put on his account and stands next to him the group picture. They don't talk much during the rest of the evening, apart from a little banter, as Xander keeps close to Jeff and Ben, the production manager. Harry himself plays most of the matches with James, Paddy and Lou against Zayn, Niall, Liam and Ellie, the four musicians of his band. 

Harry is glad that he gets to sleep to his own hotel room that night. He doesn't think he would have been able to thank Xander for his idea. Even though, he undoubtedly deserved it.

* * *

 

On Sunday, Harry and Xander go out for coffee. It's their first official stunt. Meaning, they are out to be seen. Meaning, this particular coffee date is work. Meaning, Xander makes good money from getting a vanilla latte with Harry Styles. That Harry paid for. 

A few fans notice him, of course, asking for pictures and questioning him about the bowling matches from the night before. Harry makes friendly conversation with all of them, while he keeps an out eye for Xander who places himself at a safe distance, tries to not get involved in the fan interactions while still visibly belonging to Harry. He takes a few pictures for the fans with their cameras however, so that not every picture is a selfie. 

Harry notices the curious looks, he notices how some girls and one guy seem to check Xander out and it makes Harry feel a little uneasy. He's not sure if anyone will link them together if all they see in Xander is a potential love interest for themselves. 

"Should we maybe hold hands?" Harry whispers as they leave the coffee shop.

"Little early for that, don't you think?" Xander replies under his breath. 

"They don't think we're involved," Harry argues. 

"No one's supposed to think that yet," Xander reminds him. "We still got nine weeks to go."

"I think we should hold hands," Harry says. He really doesn't think any of this is working. He wouldn't be surprised to read all about 'Harry Style's hot new friend' online the next day. 

"Keep your hands to yourself," Xander warns him.

"Then will you at least smile at me," Harry asks. "Please?" 

Obviously Xander can't know that a fan captures the exact moment Xander turns his head to face Harry with the most genuine smile playing at his lips that Harry has ever seen him wear. It's so open and friendly and accompanied by the softest look his eyes with tiny crinkles appearing around their corners that it takes Harry's breath away. Harry had never noticed that Xander, too, has dimples, and just like Harry only one his left cheek. While Harry's dimples are less defined on his right cheek, Xander's dimples turns into beautiful laugh lines. It's subconsciously that Harry returns his smile with one of his own. Happy, comfortable, proud. It's the picture that makes headlines just a day later. 

_'For His Eyes Only? Harry's Styles Is All Smiles As He Steps Out With Male Friend.'_

* * *

 

**Week Two - Denver and Kansas City**

The show in Denver has everyone forget about the mess the previous concert had been. It's a great show. The weather is perfect, the crowd is amazing and Harry is on fire. For the first time Xander appears in the crew area in front of the stage. While his fans have already figured out Xander's name, they haven't yet made the connection to the game. Which is not to Harry's disadvantage. Most of them believe the story they had planted for the crew as well. That Xander had started to work for Harry and was somehow involved with the tour. Xander had done a good job connecting himself to Jeff, the band, and Cal, Harry's tour photographer. It had made the work connection even more believable. It makes it all the more easier to sell the story to his friends and family at home. And Xander's friends believed that he and Harry met at a job interview anyway. All was going according to plan. And even though there are still many girls and boys out there discussing Xander's physical attractiveness in the comments of the first article that discusses their relationship status, Harry is relieved to see that no one is dismissing the idea that Xander could actually be interested in Harry.  _'That look is giving me butterflies and i'm not even on the receiving end,'_ might be Harry's favorite comment. It was his idea after all for Xander to smile at him. 

It takes them seventeen hours, including breaks, to get from Denver to Kansas City. Luckily their schedule isn't as tight as last week and the concert is only on Saturday evening which gives them a whole day to prepare the stage before sound checks. The show goes just as well as the one before. Xander is right back in the front row for everyone to see. They don't interact much during Harry's performance, but Xander still makes sure to snap a picture and to post it online. 

It only takes them five hours to drive from Kansas City to St. Louis. However, it's the first night in forever that Harry spends sleeping in his bunk and not sitting in the front, next to James. 

* * *

 

 **Week Three - St. Louis, Chicago, Milwaukee **  

Harry's on stage on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, giving every crowd his best. With the shorter distance between the cities, they drive over night and wake in the morning at their venues. Xander is in the stands every time, talking to Jeff, or Lou, or Simon, grinning up to him from time to time, taking a few pictures of Harry or the crowd. Harry notices how his fans grow more curious about Xander over the week. They snap their own photos of him during the concerts and they watch all of his little interactions with Harry with enthusiasm. Harry also notices how Xander's becoming more familiar with life on the road and watches his circle of friends among the crew grow. Harry doesn't know how he feels about it. Yes, it's great that Xander adjusts to the circumstances quickly, but it makes Harry feel alienated. This is supposed to be his home zone, he should be having home-turf advantage, but it's Xander who conquers his territory. 

While Harry sometimes still struggles with sleeping in the bunk, Xander sleeps like baby, undisturbed by the street lights, the noises in and outside of the bus, the vibrations, the jolts, the disruptions. He never complains. Not about being overlooked in their laundry order, not about the repetitive food selections, not about the showers at the venues or the toilets at the truck stops. Even though Harry always runs hot, every now and then he wakes up at night, feeling cold and having a sore throat from the dry air and the air conditioning. Xander seems to do fine. He sleeps with a pair of warm socks every night. Like Harry had told him to. They're not Harry's though. Not anymore. Xander only wore them for the first two nights, before switching to a new pair. Harry thinks he might have bought them in Phoenix. It's easier than imagining Xander asking someone else from the crew if they could help him out. Harry doesn't know why he feels rejected. Xander had taken every rule and every advice Harry gave him to heart.

It's after their concert in St. Louis that Xander spends the night on of the other buses. It's not unusual. The crew sometimes change buses mid-tour, to be with the people they get along best, sometimes to coordinate their work and sleep schedules, or to ensure that one of the buses is always quiet or at least less busy. Neither of the buses are fully occupied so there was definitely a spare bunk for Xander. It doesn't have to mean anything. It bugs Harry nonetheless.  

He knows Xander didn't sleep on the band bus. He was pathetic enough to ask Zayn. It would have made him feel better though. The band bus is the most busy place in their entourage. His band rides on it, his sound engineer, his second security guard, his monitor engineer, the backline crew and the sound crew. The bus is packed with instruments and Harry feels as if no one ever sleeps on there. Everyone is jamming instead, writing music and songs. It feels like a big party on there most of the time. With all of his managers on the other bus, it had been dubbed the business bus. The one Xander had slept on. 

He pictures Xander playing video games with Jeff and Ben. Pictures him joking around with Lou or Cal. He pictures him kissing Glenne, his stage manager, or Caroline, his stylist. He can even picture him having a foursome with the girls of his lightning crew. Maybe he's even having a threesome with Paddy and his vocal coach Julia. Maybe Xander is into broad, strong guys only. It's not fair really. It's not fair that Harry sleeps alone in a bus equipped for eight people while everyone is a having a giant sleepover. 

"This is how it's supposed to be, right?" Harry asks James on Friday night after he climbed into the seat in the front of the bus. Xander's back on the business bus hanging out with his friends. Harry's crew. His employees. Harry hates everything. He stares at the road ahead of them, just like James who concentrates on driving. "The artist's supposed to have privacy and get rest."

"You never seem to get any rest," James mentions with concern. 

"I'm fine." He's not. He knows it's stupid. Crowded tour buses are never fun. But he feels lonely in a group of over thirty people and he hates it. He's reminded of Xander's words about how he can just step out to know how important he is. He's not sure it's true. 

"Did you throw him out or did he find someone to busy himself with?" James asks.

"What do you mean? Busy himself with?" Harry turns to face James. 

"You know how it goes with people spending almost twenty four hours together, seven days a week."

"Yeah," Harry says sarcastically. "They start to annoy each other and jump each other's throats."

James laughs. "Not quite what I meant."

"No one's ever hooked up on my tour."

James gives him a quick glance, but then looks back, eyes on the road. He doesn't say anything. 

"No one has," Harry insist. "Ever," he adds quietly. Already doubting everything he ever considered to be true. "Who hooked up? Who's hooking up now? Why is no one telling me?" Harry ask finally.

"People don't want to get fired."

"Why would I fire anyone for hooking up?"

"There's a clause in the contract," James says.

"What?" Harry asks with wide eyes.

"You didn't know?" 

"No," Harry says. "Apparently I don't know the first thing about anything that's going on here." 

"There's a clause that says that romantic and sexual relationships under crew members are considered a disturbance in work and tour execution. And that it would lead to a revocation of the hiring contract."

"Good," Harry says bitterly. If he's going to find out about Xander's foursome, he's going to have everyone fired. 

"Oh, come on," James laughs. "People fall in love. Especially at work. Especially on tour. It's a whole different world."

"It's still work," Harry says. "I need people to focus on their fucking work. I can't be surrounded by people who don't value professionalism." 

"Are you jealous?"

"I'm not jealous, James." Harry starts to regret that he's started this talk in the first place. He should just crawl back into his bunk and try to get some sleep. They're going to spend the weekend in Detroit before their show on Monday. Tomorrow Harry is supposed to be seen shopping with Xander and later disappearing with him in the same hotel. Not unusual for co-workers on tour. Not unusual for lovers either. He already dreads it. 

"If you say so."

"I am not. Jealous. He's my PA. He can hook up with anyone he wants to. As long as he does it on his own time. And not on my tour bus."

"I actually meant in general," James says hesitantly. "Because, you know, you've been single since you broke up with that blonde one last year. The country singer."

Oops. 

"She's a pop star now, James." Harry says in an attempt to gloss over what he'd just said. "And it's been almost two years."

"Time flies." James just says. Harry hopes he won't ask him about Xander. He really really hopes James won't ask him about Xander. 

"She's with someone else now." Harry says. Still trying to deflect. 

"I don't keep tabs on gossip," James says. "Especially not yours."

Harry wonders what James means by those words. Especially not yours.

"You wanna play 20 Questions?" Harry asks. "You can go first."

"Animal, vegetable or mineral?"

* * *

 

On Saturday, Harry feels tired. Exhausted even, having slept less than four hours. Simon is already there when they get to Detroit and Harry is thankful he doesn't have to check into the hotel himself. He can't take another nap though, just a quick shower as he's scheduled to be out with Xander soon. He's not particular motivated but he could definitely use some fresh clothes and new headphones. 

Harry puts on some jeans and a worn out shirt and his sunglasses. He doesn't need to look particularly pretty for Xander who's supposed to get Harry from his room after he checked himself in. 

Xander seems to have thought the same as he's wearing sweat pants with plain shirt. The same he wore to the concert last night. 

"Didn't get a chance to change?" Harry asks when he opens his hotel room door. He regrets it a second later. It's none of his business. He should just stay out of it.

"Left all my shirts for laundry. I can buy a new one if it bothers you that much."

It does bother Harry. Because Xander smells different. He used to smell more like Harry, like their bus, like Harry's cologne and scented candles. Now he smells like sweat, like a million different people, like weed and cigarette smoke. 

"Did you sleep on the band bus?" Harry asks, because it's the only bus where smoking is allowed.  

"No, why?" Xander asks right back. 

"Because you stink," Harry tells him.

"We had a little party ourselves." Xander says, all innocent.

"Do people know that this is a multi-million dollar tour and not some party cruise?" Harry pushes his glasses up in his hair. 

"But everyone's having a day off today," Xander reminds him. "It's not that bad."

"Not you, though," Harry says angrily. "You're still working. So maybe you shouldn't behave like a twenty-year old college freshmen the second you get the chance."

"I'm sorry," Xander says. "I didn't know it would bother you as much. We're just going shopping."

"You claim to be professional, so you better act like it." Harry turns around a fishes one of his own t-shirts out of his bag. "Here," he says and throws it to Xander. 

Xander looks down at the shirt in his hands for two seconds. 

"You want me to wear this?"

"I'm not going to spend the day with you, when you smell like this."

"Fine," Xander says and steps into Harry's room. He yanks off his own shirt and throws it on Harry's bed. Before Xander's got a chance to hide the hickey on his chest with the shirt he was given, Harry has already taken a million mental pictures and made an imaginary phone call to Simon that someone definitely about to get fired. "Better?" Xander asks after he's got dressed and opens his arms so that Harry can look him over. 

Harry just nods. He needs to stay calm. He needs to stay calm and investigate. He needs to find out who Xander hooked up with. Before he threatens to kick someone off the tour bus. He needs to find out whoever put his mouth on Xander and make sure they'll never be hired by his team ever again.

"So that party," Harry tries to act casual. "What was the occasion?" 

"Ben's birthday," Xander tells him. 

Harry feels even more alienated and excluded now. He didn't know Ben had his birthday on tour. And now he missed it. Wasn't even invited. 

"I guess, it's not a big deal then," he says quietly. "You're right. Everyone has a day off. It's not like someone could get hurt while working with a hangover. Except us. But it's not like we could get hurt during a little shopping trip, right?"

"Not really." Xander says unsure. 

"I figured," Harry says absently. "We should get going," he tells him and puts his shades back on. 

* * *

 

Harry buys a bunch of new clothes and a pair of new headphones. He stops for fans who ask for pictures and autographs. One girl asks Xander if he'd mind being in the picture as well. Xander declines. He's bought a new shirt, even though he gets to wear a clean one from Harry, a few pairs of boxers and socks and some candy bars. It's only when Harry catches the girl sneak a quick snap of Xander as they're about to leave the store that he realizes that the shirt he gave him is one of the more recognizable one's of his collection. 

"They know you're wearing my t-shirt," Harry says quietly. He turns around to make sure the girl isn't following them. 

"You're not the only Pink Floyd fan in the world," Xander replies.

"You're underestimating my fans. They'll know it's the same one."

"So what?" Xander asks. "It's just a shirt. Whatever they make of it, doesn't matter."

"Don't you think the whole thing is moving to fast. We only wanted speculation to blow up after the tour. Not in the middle of it," Harry argues.

"Last week you wanted to hold hands and now things are moving too fast for you? Calm down, it's not going to blow up."

"I tell you, you're underestimating them."

"No one's going to assume you're gay because of a t-shirt," Xander tries to calm Harry.

"There were rumors because of a guitar case, a tweet, a tattoo. It doesn't matter that it's just a shirt."

"Those weren't rumors," Xander says. "It was you being reckless."

"What the fuck are you saying?"

"It was your guitar case, wasn't it? And the lyrics in that tweet? Pretty obvious. And the fact that you got that tattoo covered up after you broke up, tells me everything I need to know."

"Have you been snooping around?" Harry asks as they make their way down the street. 

"It's my job to know this stuff."

"Then you know, they'll think of it as something more. Because it has happened before."

"I'll talk to your people in London when we get back to our hotel rooms. I'll warn them. We'll make sure nothing is going to blow up. Not before we want it to. We might send you on a stroll with Lou or Glenne. People would rather write about you and a mysterious girl than you and an older guy."

"You're kidding me right?" Harry asks angrily. "You can't do this. I hired you so I could stop faking this stuff. And now you want to send me on a date with a random girl from my crew? I won't let you. I refuse," Harry says. He concentrates hard to keep his voice down, but the words come out high-pitched and audibly stressed. 

"It's just an emergency plan in case things blow up," Xander says. 

"Xander, please," Harry whispers desperately. He grabs Xander's hand to keep him from entering the store they'd planned to visit. An old school record shop. The third and last stop of their quick stunt. "I can't do this anymore. Don't make me," he begs. It doesn't matter to him how often he had to do it before, how much routine people expect him to have. He's sick of lying. He's sick of pretending to be in love, to be interested in someone he's not, to be sexually attracted to someone he sometimes wouldn't even want to spend time with in private. 

"Calm down," Xander says and shakes Harry hand off with a subtle motion. "We can talk when we're back at the hotel. Lets get this over with first."

Harry buries his face in his hands for just a second and breathes. 

When they enter the store, the employee behind the counter greets them with a friendly smile. Xander asks her to help him find a specific record while Harry quietly looks through the shelves. The black and white cover of the new album by The Rogue catches his attention. It's a nice cover. The whole band is pictured on it, in disheveled suits with their instruments. He stares at their front man for a moment and wonders if he feels the same way about stunts and beards now. Maybe he doesn't mind as much as Harry does. 

"Can you ask Simon to send a car?" Harry asks Xander after he'd paid. "I don't want to walk back to the hotel."

Xander looks him over and considers his request for a second. Harry must look rather miserable and Xander agrees and gets his phone out of his pocket to call Simon. 

* * *

 

"I won't make you get another beard," Xander tries to assure him when they're back in the hotel. Back in Harry's room. "I'm here to make sure you can come out, remember?"

"We can't keep making mistakes," Harry says. "I can't have any press like this now. The album release is next week. This is not the press I had mind for it to be promoted. I didn't want a scandal."

"There won't be a scandal. I'll make sure there won't be a scandal," Xander promises.

"I want this to be about my music. Not about you. Not about a random girl. This is the best album I recorded so far and I want it to be free from any speculation," Harry explains. "I just can't do it anymore. It's not fair, not to me, not to the girls." The moment the words slip out of his mouth Harry remembers that Xander doesn't care about fairness. "Just forget what I just said," Harry adds. 

"I get it, Harry," Xander says. "I get it, but you have to focus on your long-term goal."

"Or you could focus on my long term-goal and do your job properly," Harry blurts back.

" _You_ wanted me to change my shirt."

"Because I can't have fans who met me, report that my personal assistant smells like weed."

"I didn't smoke any."

"I don't give a fuck about what you do on one of the other buses. As long as it doesn't affect your work. Which it obviously did."

"Are you threatening to sue me again? I told you, I had this under control," Xander says.

"I forbid you to sleep on any of the other buses," Harry says without thinking about it. 

"You what?"

"You're not allowed to stay on any of the other buses. Not over night. And you're not allowed to go to any parties."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No," Harry says. "And I'm well within my rights. I could fire all of you. I'm cutting all of you some slack, so that being on the road doesn't take a toll on any of us. But I might reconsider. This is still work. I'm sick of people not treating it like that."

"I have always been professional."

"Not today," Harry tells him. "I'm glad you don't mind being on tour. But you're not here to make any friends. You were distracted today. You're not staying on any of the other buses. End of discussion." Harry doesn't break eye contact with Xander. He knows he's being strict, annoyingly strict, but he's not overreacting this time. Xander was distracted. He's not focusing. He might even be over-playing it in the stands during his concerts. Things are definitely moving to fast now. 

"Okay," Xander says finally. "I won't do it anymore."

"Okay," Harry says. 

They look at each other until Xander's phone buzzes a few moments later. He crams it out of his pocket and unlocks the screen. 

Xander stares at it with wide eyes, reading something.

"What is it?" Harry asks. 

"Shit," Xander just says. 

"What is it?" Harry asks again.

"Shit, shit," Xander repeats.

"What happened?" Harry asks and when Xander still doesn't look up from his phone, Harry moves behind Xander and looks over his shoulder. 

On the screen Harry can see a picture of himself. From today. It shows him standing in front of the record store with his face buried in his hands. The headline above the picture reads: " _EXCLUSIVE ! Burn Out: An Over-Worked Harry Styles Begs 'Don't Make Me Keep Going!_ '".

"What the hell," Harry says in shock. "How did they get this out in an hour."

"Hour and a half," Xander corrects him. He seems to be in shock too, still staring at the screen.

"Scroll down," Harry tells him.

"Harry Styles was photographed today in Detroit having a break-down in the middle of a shopping spree. He's been on a tight schedule since his FIVE SENSES Tour started earlier this year and promotion for his upcoming album WINGS, which will be released next week, had started last month," Xander reads out loud. "'He's over-worked' an insider tells us exclusively. 'He doesn't sleep, he's been losing weight and he has even asked for prescription pills to keep him going'. The insider reveals that Harry's team is concerned for the tour, fearing he will not be able to complete the remaining gigs. 'Harry has performed poorly in Utah. He tries his best, so his fans won't notice', our source tells us. 'But his team is worried it will happen again. The facade is crumbling'. And it's happening faster than everyone expected."

Xander scrolls down to a second picture of Harry holding Xander's hand while they still stand in front of the store.

"Today," Xander keeps on reading, "Harry was seen clinging to his personal assistant in panic and was overheard saying 'I can't do this anymore.' The record store employee who served them later, tells us, Styles looked miserable, tired and was very quiet. 'He asked to be picked up. I felt really bad for him.' It's obvious the singer has reached his limits. We hope his team reacts soon to Style's plea."

"Holy shit," Harry just says. "There's our scandal."

"At least no one is talking about that shirt," Xander says. 

"Guess not." Harry takes a few steps back and Xander turns around to face him. "What are we doing now?" Harry asks. 

"Find out who's been talking to the press."

"What?" Harry asks. "No one did. They made this up. I'm not over-worked."

"They put this together in an hour and claimed it as an Exclusive," Xander says. "'He doesn't sleep, he's been losing weight and has asked for prescription pills to keep him going.'", Xander reads again. He hesitates for a moment. "Did you ask for medication?"

"No!" Harry insists. Yes, he could use more sleep, but he doesn't need any uppers to keep him going.

"But you're not sleeping. That one is true. And the bit about Salt Lake City. About your team being worried. It could be a coincidence, of course," Xander says. "But I wouldn't bet on it. Someone might have been talking."

Harry hadn't realized that Xander had noticed how difficult it was for Harry to find sleep at times. He wonders why Xander never brought in up sooner.

"Just issue an denial and tell them I'm fine," Harry suggests.

"I have a feeling we'll be watched very closely by fans and media alike in the next few weeks."

"This can't overshadow the album release," Harry tells him. "We have to act fast."

"I'm going to call London and see what they say," Xander says. "Since it's not related to the coming out, it's actually their problem to solve."

"No, Xander, you have to help me," Harry begs him. For the second time today. "You're good at this. Get involved, please."

"I'll see what I can do," he tells Harry and puts his hand on his shoulder. "We'll better talk to Simon first."

 


	5. Chapter 5

"We should just plant a fake story with the crew and see if it ends up with the press," Harry suggests. He's sitting in front of Simon with Xander, discussing the unexpected drama. 

"That's really not how it works," Xander says. "We're not going to play detectives. Too risky. We can't possibly predict the outcome. Stories could get even more twisted."

We can't just issue a denial," Simon says, mirroring what Xander had said earlier. "We would have to explain the pictures. Which would force us to show our hand early." 

"We're playing three fields now instead of one," Xander chimes in. "We have to handle the exhaustion scandal, the possible leak and your coming out at the same time. We need to be smart about everything." 

"And you have you're busiest week coming up, with four concerts in two countries," Simon adds. 

"And the album release," Harry says. 

"And the album release," Simon repeats. 

Everyone is quiet for a few seconds, digging through ideas in their heads first, before daring to say them out loud. 

"Maybe I should just come out now," Harry says. "It would explain everything." 

"It's going to be unpredictable," Xander argues. "Yes, it would explain everything, but people will assume that either being closeted or coming out put you under so much stress that you had a break down. So it won't be positive press. It won't seem like it was all your choice, but rather necessary for your health. It's possible to pull it off, but it's going to take away from the album and the tour. Fans will possibly feel betrayed, thinking you lied to them until you broke down under all of the pressure." 

"London suggests to ignore the exclusive and bury it under tons of positive press," Simon tells them. 

"It would only work if the insider source wasn't legit. If it is, there's going to be a new exclusive next week," Xander says. 

"What do you suggest?" Simon asks. 

Harry takes one look at Xander to know that he's as helpless as all of them. He still hopes he'll be able to come up with an idea. For the sake of both of them. If not, Harry is going to give London green light and pray that there is no person part of his crew who is actually giving out information to the press. 

"I need more time to come up with something," Xander says honestly. "I need twenty-four hours." 

"You can have a day, but we need to take action immediately tomorrow. I want this to be buried under our own press when everyone wakes up on Monday. Weekend press is slow. This might have been a test article to see what our response would be. They could have a second one ready to be published already. Especially if we have a leak," Simon tells them.

Harry feels awkwardly useless and misplaced. The meeting is about him and only him, yet he has no idea how to get them out of trouble. He's been in the industry for almost five years, yet he knows only little about how PR works.

"I'll make sure this won't have any impact on the album, the tour and the coming out. I'll make sure Harry can focus on the upcoming gigs and the release." 

"Technically, it's not part of your job description," Simon says carefully.

"It interferes with my work, therefor it's part of my job to resolve this," Xander assures him. 

"Harry," Simon starts, facing Harry now. "This is beyond what we agreed on. Beyond what is he's contractually obliged to do. You're aware of this, right? If this backfires, he's not liable." 

"So I won't be able to sue him?" Harry asks with a grin. 

"We don't pay him, we can't sue him. As your manager I suggest we agree to a new contract. We should talk about that soon."

"It's not necessary," Xander says. "It won't backfire." 

"We don't know yet, what we're dealing with," Simon says carefully. "We've had problems before," he says, face full of concern. "During the tour last year. The band was filmed smoking marijuana. And the video was leaked to the press. We thought it might have been a band member who put the video out, so we replaced the entire band. But it could be the same person we're dealing with now. Are you sure you got this?" 

 "I got this," Xander insists. 

 

* * *

 

"We should still talk about a new contract sometime," Harry says as he and Xander leave Simon's hotel room. 

"Why?" Xander asks. "I thought you trusted me?" 

"I do," Harry says. "I just don't need any-" 

"Distractions," Xander finishes for him. "I get it." 

"It's not about you," Harry lies. "It's about everyone not taking their work serious. And it would be good for you too. We would add crisis manager to your job description. You could make more money."

"When did you become obsessed with professionalism?"

"Must be your influence," Harry says. "Since when do you care about anything besides professionalism?"

"Must be your influence," Xander shoots back.

"Are you sure, you can come up with something by tomorrow?" Harry asks. 

"Don't worry about it." 

"Kinda hard not to," Harry admits. "Are we still on for dinner tomorrow?" 

"I think it would be best to stick to the schedule. Your coming out is still my number one priority. We get everything else resolved."

"Listen," Harry says, feeling really awkward now. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I threatened to sue you. Back at the stadium. I was just really angry. And upset. And scared. But I know it was wrong. It's not about that anymore. I just need everyone to be focused right now. Because I am still scared."

Xander looks him over and nods.

"Thanks," he says. "For apologizing. I am focused. And even if I'm not? I'm still better than half of your team combined."

"You're so full of yourself," Harry tells him.

"But you know it's true."

 

* * *

 

"Here's what we're going to do," Xander starts the next day as the three of them are back in Simon's hotel room. "We'll make a soft denial. We won't deny the exhaustion but play it off as general nervousness about the album release. You said it was your best album yet," Xander says to Harry. "So you are obviously stressed about whether or not your fans will like it. You don't have much time for promo because of the tour, so you worry it won't do as well." 

"We asked the label to push back the release, but they didn't want it collide with another huge release later this year. Sometimes you take the backseat when more than two artists got their albums ready to go," Harry explains.

"We tell London to play it up on social media. I want tweets that you are nervous but excited about the album, that you can't wait any longer, that the suspense is killing you. Yes, make it dramatic. At the same time we'll make a press release with one of the magazines we worked with before. An article about the tour. And we'll quote Jeff saying that he trusts you one hundred percent. We'll quote you saying that the energy of being on stage is what keeps you going. We add a few pictures of you on stage and from the crew during our bowling night. I want people to see that you don't feel pressure from your team, that your team trusts you to keep going and to speak up if you feel the need to take a break. I want you to put your fan's support front and center. It's your motivation, it's what keeps you going through all the stress. I want everyone to know how hard you worked on that album. And that that's why you are stressed. Because you poured your heart and soul into it," Xander explains.

"What about the leak?" Simon asks. 

"Are we going to plant fake stories?" Harry suggests again. 

"No," Xander sighs. "Well, not quite." 

Harry grins. 

"Keep tabs on who you talk with and about what. Keep a diary," Xander tells him. 

"A diary?" Harry asks. 

"You're a songwriter. You should have plenty of notebooks at hand at any time," Xander says. 

"Yeah, but I don't keep a diary," Harry argues. 

"What's the problem with keeping a diary?" Xander asks. 

"It's cheesy," Harry replies.

"You're kidding me right?" Xander sighs. "This is important."

"Word goes fast though. Why would the leak be someone I talk to personally? The exhaustion rumors show how vague the actual information is," Harry argues. "It could be a friend of a friend and their second cousin type of thing."

"It's still better than nothing. We still don't know if we have a leak at all," Xander says. "So we should focus on our press. Make sure you look as relaxed as possible when we go out for dinner later."

"I'll handle the article and the social media," Simon tells them. "So you two can focus on Harry's coming out schedule in general and the date tonight specifically."

"It's not a date," Harry corrects him. "Not technically. It's work."

"I'm aware of that," Simon assures him with a bored expression.

That's all the three of them agree to as of now. They're going to wait if more sketchy articles will surface during the next week. And that's really all they can do. Apart from Harry's diary. 

 

* * *

 

They chose a small restaurant for dinner, nothing too fancy and not one of the new hotspots of the city. They don't have to be seen by too many people. A few fans who'll spread the word on social media will do just fine. 

They don't talk much. Mostly because Harry doesn't want to. He just wants to get it over with. 

"You were really silent tonight," Xander says later after they got in the car. 

"I guess the less we talk the less I have to write into my brand new conversation diary," Harry replies dryly.

"Are you going to write about what a dick you can be?" Xander asks.

"I'm trying to keep dicks as far away from you as possible, since I know they make you uncomfortable."

"Then maybe you should have walked home," Xander says. 

 

* * *

  

**Week Four - Detroit, Toronto, Ottawa, Montreal**

The concert in Detroit is one of the best one's since the tour started. Harry remembers to talk about his album while he's on stage and asks his fans to help it succeed on its Friday release. Just like he'd promised, Xander spends his nights on Harry's bus. And Harry manages to get some sleep while they cross the border to Canada. The show in Toronto goes well too. Xander can be seen throughout the entire concert in the guests section with Jeff and Simon while Harry plays his usual set. They didn't have to deal with another leaked exclusive yet and the tour article his own team put out was released earlier that day. Everything goes according to plan and Harry tentatively starts to hope that they were wrong about an insider selling to the press anyway. 

His album is released on Friday and goes straight into the top ten. Harry didn't dare to hope to get a number 1 entry, so the seventh chart position makes him confident anyway. He plays two songs of the new album to the crowd in Ottawa who welcomes him with the wildest applause yet. 

Instead of having a free weekend, like they had the weeks before, they play in Montreal on Sunday. There's hardly enough time to practice new songs during the day, but Harry adds another one from the album to his set list. 

During the week he keeps his diary, takes notes about conversations he had, with whom and if someone was around to hear. He doesn't keep excessive tabs on the conversations he has with Xander even though he continues to use the effort of documentation as a reason not to talk to him. Whenever it's unavoidable for them to talk, most of Harry's notes just state 'Xander being a prick' or 'Xander trying to be professional'.

Harry knows it's unethical, wrong and invasive, but sometimes when Xander changes his shirt Harry peeks to cast a glance at the fading hickey. By Sunday it's almost gone, but Harry could still place his finger on the exact sport even if he was blindfolded. 

 

* * *

 

**Week Five - Boston, Philadelphia**

Harry sleeps for fourteen hours after his concert in Ottawa. He gives two phone interviews on Monday about his album and hits a local radio station on Tuesday where he states live on air that he's feeling a massive relief since the album is being received so well, currently occupying chart position four, and therefore is feeling a lot better than the week before. But that's as far as he goes into the rumors about his breakdown. 

On Wednesday, Harry adds two more songs of his new album to the set. He watches Xander more than usual during the concert because even though he's accompanied as usual by Jeff and Simon, Lou, Julia and Caroline join them as well. 

Harry still has no clue who the person is, that Xander has hooked up with on the bus. Harry decides to try and eliminate everyone that seems unlikely, like Caroline and Lou who have not only spouses but children back at home. So do Ben and Cal. And Harry just doesn't want to assume the worst and consider any of them are cheating on their partners with Xander. 

Jeff is single, so are Julia and Glenne. Paddy isn't with anyone either. Or at least Harry doesn't know of anyone in particular. And he is pretty sure his lightning engineer Perrie is only interested in women. Which leaves only two more people on his list, the girls from his lightning crew, Eleanor and Sophia. And he wouldn't put it past them or Xander to go through with that threesome. Everyone else sleeps on the band bus and Harry can't imagine any of them sleeping on the business bus voluntarily, if they could be where all the cool kids spend their days and nights. 

They take off for Philly late at night and Harry falls asleep instantly. It feels as if he's only been out for a minute, when Xander gently shakes him awake with a firm grip on his naked shoulder.

"Harry," he whispers, "Harry, wake up."

"Whudtheell," Harry mumbles. 

"Harry," Xander repeats equally quiet. "You gotta wake up. They just released another exclusive."

Harry blinks in the darkness not yet processing all the information. 

"What time is it?" he asks, trying to make out Xander's features in the dark. 

"Shortly after four," Xander tells him. 

"Fuck," Harry says and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

"What's the article about?" Harry asks. "How is there even an article? I didn't even do anything this week besides performing and promotion. I have even been sleeping," Harry reminds him. 

"I know," Xander says and he sounds a little sympathetic. "But it seems like it's worse than we thought." 

"How bad?" 

"Pretty bad." 

"Just tell me, okay?" Harry urges him on. 

"They say you're unreliable. They're hinting on excessive alcohol abuse. They dug up that old weed video again. The insider is claiming that your tour is one big drug fest. They're saying now that it's no wonder that you're exhausted since you're trying to keep up the work schedule and the party schedule likewise."

"I hadn't had a beer in weeks," Harry says confused. 

"I know," Xander reassures him once more. "But we have to fight back quick." 

"How?" 

"I need you to deny it right away."

"Deny what? That everyone on this fucking tour is pretending they're college freshmen on a class trip to California for spring break? It's true. Y'all have been fucking with drugs and booze behind my back," Harry says angrily. 

"It's not their image that's suffering right now," Xander tells him, staying as calm as before. "You can replace the whole crew if you want to, but it won't change the fact that this is meant to target you personally. And that we should react now." 

"I'm tired," Harry says and he means it. He's not just tired because Xander woke him up in the middle of the night. He's tired in general. Maybe the first insider exclusive wasn't wrong after all.

"Give me your phone," Xander tells him. 

"What the fuck? No," Harry insists. 

"I just need you to send a few tweets. But I don't have access to your account." 

"And I'm not giving you access." 

"Then tweet something yourself," Xander argues. 

"At four in the morning? You know who tweets at four in the morning? Drunk people. How convenient," Harry says sarcastically. 

"This was meant to hit the UK," Xander says.

"What are you talking about?"

"The article went up at 9 am local time in London. If you wait until morning every single European outlet will have picked it up," Xander explains. "They're counting on you being asleep." 

Harry thinks for a moment before he feels for his phone next to his pillow. He unlocks it hesitantly and pulls up his twitter account. 

"What do you want me to do?" Harry asks. 

"I need you to reply directly to the magazine. Say that you were woken up by a call from your mother because she was worried about the false information spread," Xander says. "And then send another one addressing the journalist personally for their embarrassing work." 

Harry tries to type something out, but his eyes have trouble focusing in the bright light of the screen and his thumbs are a little shaky. 

"Can you do it?" he asks unsure. 

Xander nods. And Harry hands him his phone. 

Harry watches him type out two tweets with an angry expression. 

"Trust me," Xander tells him and hands him his phone back. "It's better that we scare everyone off before they latch onto the story. We should be in Philly around seven or eight in the morning. We have to talk to Simon then." 

Harry just nods. 

"You should try to sleep for a little longer," Xander says. 

"I don't think I can," Harry tells him honestly. 

"Me neither," Xander says and Harry can see him smiling in the dim light. 

"You wanna watch a movie in the back?" Harry suggest. 

"I don't think I'd be good company. I don't think I can concentrate on anything else tonight," Xander says and -ouch. The rejection stings. 

"I thought it wasn't your imagine that's one the line?" Harry asks, fully aware that he's just picking a fight now. "Why are you so worried?" 

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that I actually care about you?" Xander asks, still whispering. 

"Because we're not friends," Harry just says. 

"Do you even have friends?" Xander asks and Harry hates him for knowing exactly how to hit him where it hurts. 

"You think I'm jealous of your little crew back home?" Harry asks him back. 

"I didn't say that. I didn't say you were jealous. I'm saying you're isolating yourself."

"I'm really not." 

"Right," Xander says defeated. 

"Why can't you just be honest?" Harry asks. "Do you regret not having crisis manager scribbled into your contract? Is that what your worrying about? How you'd let that money pass you by?"

"You want honesty?" Xander asks. 

"Yes." Harry says.

"Fine. I like you." 

Harry needs a few second to register what Xander had just said. 

"You hate me." Harry corrects him. 

"Yes," Xander says. "But I also like you."

"That's bullshit." 

"As if you don't like me too." 

"I hate you," Harry says. 

"Oh, I'm aware of that."

"Can you sleep here tonight?"

"If you keep your toes away from me," Xander says and starts climbing into Harry's bunk as Harry scoots closer to the wall of the bus. 

"You do know that a foot fetish is about other people's feet right?" Harry whispers as Xander settles down next to him. 

"Just go to sleep," Xander tells him. 

"Make me," Harry says. 

"What?"

"What?"

"That doesn't make any sense," Xander says. "What do you want me to do? Knock you unconscious?"

"I thought you'd say something else."

"And that would have been?"

"Just shut up."

"No, I won't," Xander says.

"No," Harry groans annoyed. "I thought that's what you would go for. Tell me to shut up."

"That doesn't make any sense either."

"Just go to sleep, Xander," Harry says and turns his back on him facing the wooden paneling of his bunk.

Xander shuffles around behind him, essentially attempting to spoon him with as little body contact as possible. Which is hard in a bunk designed for one person. 

After Xander seems to have found a good position, Harry starts focusing on his breathing behind him and falls asleep soon after.

 

* * *

 

When Harry blinks awake in the morning he's curled up on himself with Xander wrapped around him. Harry's face is pressed against Xander's chest and their legs are all tangled up. 

Harry just takes a moment to register his surroundings before he decides it's not worth falling in panic over. Instead he shuffles two millimeters closer to Xander and drifts of into sleep again. 

 

* * *

 

"Harry?" Xander wakes him once more with a hand one his shoulder. "We're supposed to meet with Simon in half an hour," he tells him. 

"Where?" Harry asks, still half asleep. 

"He's coming on the bus."

Harry just grimaces instead of answering.

"I know, but we need privacy to talk about last night?"

"Last night??" Harry asks, suddenly wide awake. "What's there to talk about? Especially with Simon?"

"The article," Xander says. "Not,-"

They're still huddled up together with Harry curled into Xander. 

"Oh," Harry says. "Yeah, I guess, we should get up then?" 

"Yeah," Xander agrees. 

But neither of them move for another five seconds. Then Xander starts to climb out of the bunk first.

 

* * *

  

 Xander tells Simon everything about the article and even reads him some of the more surprising lines as they all sit in the back of the bus with the doors slid shut.

"The bad press was meant for the UK specifically," Xander says. "I'm 99% sure this wasn't a coincidence."

"But why?" Harry asks. He really should have asks that yesterday. 

"That's what we have to try to find out," Xander says.

"What about the leak?" Simon asks. 

"They used information about the two double-decker sleepers. With Harry having to keep his diary, he's been more thoughtful to talk,-"

"Excuse me?" Harry interrupts. "I'm always thoughtful when I talk."

"You've been more aware and reflective over what you were saying and generally have been speaking less. If the insider picked up any information, it wasn't explosive enough to use. But I'm leaning toward a leak from someone not very close to Harry. Someone from the sound crew or back up crew on one of the sleepers. Maybe someone without access to this bus. I don't think it's the band though. They have too much to lose," Xander explains.

"Do we have to bury this?" Simon asks. 

"No," Xander replies. "We've faced the accusations head on and called them out for publishing defamatory lies. We'll get press, but the negative press will hit the news outlet, not us. We made sure to mention Harry's family being concerned, which should ensure some empathy towards us. Harry is known for being honest even when he talks about uncomfortable issues, so I think we should be fine. All PR should be kept focused on promoting the album. Our team in London should call our media partners asking them to include a mention of the album and the cover in their reports about the insider exclusive being denied."

"I'm going to take care of that," Simon promises.

"Okay, but why Britain? Why Europe?" Harry asks again. 

"I'm going to see what my media contacts back in London can dig up," Simon says."Maybe they know more than we do what's going on there right now."

"Sounds good," Xander states. "You'll do that and we focus on some good press and the upcoming stunts," Xander says and Harry thinks about asking when exactly they've become a team, but he figures maybe he shouldn't bother Simon with their ridiculous fights. 

"And don't forget about the show tomorrow," Simon says. "The tour is still our number one priority." 

Harry nods. And so does Xander.

 

* * *

 

During the show in Philadelphia Harry stumbles over his own microphone stand and goes down hard in the middle of the second to last song of the night. 

After he gets back on his feet he throws a glance to Xander who mouths 'You okay?'.

Harry gives him a thumbs up even though his bum hurts like hell.

 

* * *

 

They stay in Philadelphia until Sunday afternoon, but swap their bunks for hotel rooms after the show on Friday. on Saturday, Harry and Xander go out for ice cream.

Harry notices how some of his fans are trying to sneak pictures when Harry is not looking. While some of his fans still insist that Xander and him are just friends, and/or have to be close due to Xander's position as his personal assistant. Some fans however seem to be already speculating about the two of them dating and try to spot them in more intimate situations. They try to catch them being lost in lingering touches or lusting looks. But that's not to come any time soon. Even though Xander had warned him before that their stunting would require a certain amount of intimacy he had told Harry that physical contact would only be important at the end of their stunting phase. 

"So when are we going to hold hands," Harry asks, licking on his ice cream cone.

"You can't wait for it to happen, can you?" Xander asks right back.

"The opposite actually," Harry tells him. "I'm dreading it so much, I need time to prepare myself."

"Right," Xander says. "Miami. Maybe New Orleans."

"So more than three weeks."

"That should be enough time for you to prepare. "

When Harry is back on the bus an hour later, he opens his diary and writes: Talked with Cal and James about the Packers during breakfast. Told Jeff I wanna try a new set list after Nashville. Talked with Xander about hand holding. He has nice hands, but they're smaller than mine. 

Harry stares at the paper for a moment, trying to figure out why in the world he would write down that last bit of information.

 

* * *

 

Harry spends his Sunday in bed, giving his body some well-deserved rest and some areas of his body some well-deserved attention. Jerking off in the bus as never even crossed his mind, not with Xander sleeping right across the aisle.

But now he's got a whole bed for himself and he's going to make some use of it. 

He thinks about fucking someone on the bus, while's he's still riding the energy high from being on stage all night, thinks about pushing them down and leaving bruises all over their hips and chest. He doesn't think about Xander. It's definitely not his chest he's picturing, nor his abs, or hands that are gripping his ass urging Harry to go deeper. It's really not him. It could be anyone, really. However, Harry cannot deny that it's Xander voice that pops into his head for a split second, begging him by his name to keep going. It's pure coincidence though, that Harry comes all over his hand that exact moment. It's not like Xander's voice could ever have such an effect on him.

 

* * *

 

**Week Six - Baltimore, Washington, Pittsburgh**

The days go by in a haze, but Harry notices that Xander is constantly in a bad mood. He barely talks to anyone, not just Harry which wouldn't be too surprising, but neither with Jeff nor Lou or Simon who is still trying to dig up some insider information on the gossip world in Europe. Harry doesn't think he's responsible for Xander's well-being, but then he remembers how he'd promised Xander an open ear when he first arrived. 

"What's wrong with you?" Harry asks after his gig in Washington. They're both lying in their bunks with the light off and bus moving towards Pittsburgh.

"Nothing," Xander tells him.

"Right," Harry says. "That's why you're being pissed off for the past four days. Over nothing, obviously."

"It doesn't concern you."

"Does it have to do with your work? Because if it does," Harry says. "It definitely concerns me."

"It has nothing to do with work," Xander assures him.

"Then what is it?"

"I already told you, it's not of your business."

"Quit being so stubborn," Harry says. 

"Why do you care?"

"Because maybe I worry about you?"

Harry can hear Xander snorting from across the bus. 

"Yeah, right," Xander says. "Since when do you care about me?"

"Xander," Harry starts. "Just tell me. You know this conversation won't be over until you do."

Xander hesitates. 

"Come on," Harry whispers.

"Fine," Xander says. "I miss my cat."

"Cat? Is that code pussy?" Harry asks. "As in girlfriend?"

"No, you idiot! As in cat. As in my pet. You know cats? Those fluffy things that hunt mice and scratch you if you touch their tummies? You've seen her. She's all over my Instagram."

"Wow," Harry says. "You must really love your cat."

"Her name's Olivia."

"Of course," Harry sighs. "So where is Olivia now?"

"With my sister," Xander tells him. 

"What is she like?" Harry asks.

"My sister?"

"Your cat," Harry says exasperated. 

"You know her. She's all black but has the brightest green eyes. She also has all black toe beans, except for one. On her left front paw. It's pink. In the summer she chases butterflies that sit on the flowers out on the balcony through the window. She can't get out, but she loves watching them. She likes to sleep on my shirts and sweaters. I left a few with my sister to help her adjust."

"I'm sure she's doing fine."

"She is," Xander says. "I still miss her though."

"She sounds lovely," Harry tells him. 

"Are you making fun of me?" Xander ask. "I knew I shouldn't have told you."

"No, I'm not. So you're a cat person, huh? I just didn't know."

"Now you know. Can I get back to sleep now?"

"I'm sure she misses you too," Harry says in an attempt to offer Xander some comfort. 

"Ten weeks is a long time. She's missing her apartment and all of her toys. She's going to hate me when I come back."

"No, she won't," Harry says. 

"Last year, I left her with my sister for five days because I had a meeting on the east coast. She thanked me when I came back by pushing a glass of red wine from the table. I still have nightmares about that stain," Xander tells him.

Harry grins to himself. It does sound like Xander to get into a frenzy over a wine stain.

"Did you get it out?" Harry asks.

"Had to redo the carpet."

Harry laughs. 

"I think I would like her," Harry considers.

"You would," Xander says quietly. "She would like you too. You could collectively hate me."

"I'm sorry, you miss her."

"It's okay," Xander assures him. "Just four and half weeks to go."

"Yeah," Harry says. He didn't know Xander was counting down the days. 

"Night, Harry," Xander says finally. 

"Night."

Harry doesn't go back to sleep though. He digs up his flashlight and his diary and starts to write. 

\- Talked with Xander about Olivia. 

Four hours later and shortly before Pittsburgh, Harry copies the song 'Olivia' from his diary into his songbook. 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

** Week Seven - Cleveland, Cincinnati, Nashville **

The whole crew doesn't stay in Pittsburgh over the weekend. Instead they move on to Cleveland right away. 

Harry and Xander go to a small concert on Saturday evening, trying to lay low. Yes, their ultimate goal is to be seen, but not to get mobbed at another band's show. 

"They sound really good," Harry says to Xander after the band had performed their first three or four songs. 

"What?" Xander asks. The music is just too loud to communicate comfortably. 

He leans closer to Harry and tilts his head down just a little. 

"They're really good," Harry repeats, his lips almost touching Xander's ear. 

Xander smiles and nods after he pulls back. He nudges Harry's shoulder to warn him that he'd be leaning in again. 

As he does, Xander accidentally brushes Harry's earlobe with his nose before he gets a chance to talk. 

"They're fantastic," Xander agrees then. "You should hire them as your support act for your next tour."

Harry grins at him. He's honestly considering it.

 

* * *

 

A few pictures of Harry and Xander talking into each others neck make it on the internet. It's exactly what they were going for. The pictures suggest intimacy but the location could cancel it out. They're open for interpretation and the speculation continues. 

On Sunday Harry focuses on his own investigation. Simon was unable to find out anything until now, so he'd decided to fly to London for the weekend to meet with some of his contacts in person. The show in Cleveland should not suffer from it, as the buses have arrived three days early and Jeff should be able to handle any complications alone. There haven't been any insider exclusives for almost two weeks, but Harry knows they're coming. However, for now, there is nothing he can do about it, except keeping his diary up to date. 

So Harry decides to set up a meeting in his hotel room with Glenne, Perrie, Eleanor and Sophia to discuss the upcoming changes in his setlist and how it will affect the stage and lightning crew. 

None of them flinch or blush at the mention of Xander that Harry deliberately throws in every now and then. It would have been too easy anyway. 

They all go out for lunch together after and to Harry's surprise Perrie does tell him about a girl back home she fancies. Eleanor and Sophia seem more interested in doing a good job than hooking up with any of the other crew members, though Sophia comments on how fit both of his bodyguards apparently are. And Eleanor agrees with smirk. Seems as if Xander wouldn't be quite be their type. Both of the girls tease Glenne about her secret crush on Jeff and Harry has to pinky-promise that he won't say a word. He promises. 

Since none of the talks got him any answers, and since Harry's ulterior motive is rather unethical, he decides to forget to put his lunch conversations in his diary. Harry knows he should just let the whole Xander-hook-up-thing go already. But he can't. 

When Harry finds himself practicing with Julia, his vocal coach, on Monday before the show, his efforts pay off. She hides a shy smile and a slight blush from Harry as he tells her about the concert he went to with Xander. 

Harry has to stop and look twice, but it's there, coloring her cheeks in a light pink tone. 

Just to be sure, Harry drops Xander's name once more for good measure. Julia faces away from him, convincing Harry that she is a little uncomfortable talking about Harry's personal assistant. 

 

* * *

  

"I think, I have to fire Julia," Harry says, sitting in his usual spot in the bus next to James, just after they've finished packing up. The show was okay, Harry was distracted, but the additional anger and adrenaline canceled out the mistakes he made.

"What? Why?" James asks, shock obvious in his voice.

"She's been hooking up," Harry says.

"How do you know?" James asks instantly. 

"I just do." Harry doesn't want to say Xander's name out loud, in case it would someone wake him up, so he points to the back with his thumb. 

"What the hell?" James says. "That's bullshit. They're not hooking up."

"Shhh," Harry tells him with a finger across his lips.  "You said people hook up," Harry almost whispers. "And I am pretty sure those two do. Or did." Harry adds. 

"I'm pretty sure they don't," James says. 

"What makes you think they don't?" Harry asks.

"What makes you think they do?" James shoots back.

"I just know. He had-," Harry starts and gestures with his hand around his chest. "He had like a mark or something. A bruise. A hickey. And she couldn't stop blushing when I mentioned his name earlier today."

"And that's how you know? That's barely anything to go by," James says. 

"It's not like I could compare the mark with her teeth, but I'm pretty sure it was her."

"It wasn't," James insists. 

"You don't know that," Harry argues. 

"But I do," James sighs. "I do know that."

"How?" Harry asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Because I have been hooking up with her, okay?" James hisses. "If you want to fire her, you have to fire me too."

"You?" Harry asks, feeling clueless again. "And Julia?"

"Yes. I love her, okay? And she loves me. She didn't hook up with anybody else."

"Oh," Harry says, staring. And frowning. And staring some more. "You love her?" he asks eventually.

"I love her."

"And she loves you?"

"She loves me."

"Then who has been hooking up with Xander?" Harry wonders out loud and then slaps his palm over his mouth. He peeks through the curtain separating the driver's area from the back of the bus. Nothing. Hopefully Xander is still asleep. 

"I don't know. Not her," James says once more. "Are you going to fire us?" he asks quietly. 

"Of course not," Harry says. "I'm happy for you!"

"Your're happy for us?" James asks skeptically. "A minute ago, you wanted to let her go."

"I was overreacting."

"Are you going to fire whoever he hooked up with?" 

"No," Harry says quickly. "I don't know. No."

"So you are jealous?"

"I am. Not. Jealous." Harry insists. "Why did Julia blush at the mention of, you know?"

"Because I told her that you maybe care about him."

"I do not care about him." Harry argues. "And why would you say that?"

"You should go to bed, Harry," James tells him.

"Who else have you been talking to? The press? Have you been talking to the press?" Harry asks agitated.

"I would never," James says and looks at him quickly before focusing on the road again. "I would never," he says again. "I told you, I don't care about gossip."

"Why did you tell her?"

"I am worried about you. I am worried about you getting hurt."

"That's not your job," Harry says. 

"I know it's not my job. But we're friends," James tells him. 

It's so simple and so far from anything Harry had expected that he has to swallow hard and hide his face in his hands for a moment. 

"I'm sorry," he says through his fingers. "I'm so sorry."

"He's got you pretty confused, huh?" James asks gently. 

Harry nods before he lets his hands fall into his lap. 

"Does it change anything?" Harry asks, fidgeting with his sleeves. "Do you think it's wrong?" Harry knows it's stupid that he's being this insecure. He has come out to a lot of people before. He's come out to his mom, his sister, and Simon. He's even come out to Zayn one night, completely drunk off their asses, though Zayn hadn't remembered the day after. But this feels different. This feels like practice for the real thing in a few weeks.

"That you fancy another man?" James contemplates. "No. That you fancy him?" he pauses. "Maybe."

Harry doesn't dare to look up. He doesn't know what James is hinting at. 

"If he'll hurt you," James starts. "I'm going to strangle him."

"He will." Harry says and gives James a tight smile. "We're not really," Harry takes a breath."We're not really on the same page."

"Talk to him sometime," James tells him. "You'll won't have to rely on your theories. Just listen to him."

 

* * *

 

On Tuesday, Harry tries. He really, really wants to talk to Xander. But he can't. He physically can't. The words just won't come out. 

It gets worse on Wednesday. Harry has no idea how he manages to entertain thousands of people when he constantly feels as if something has been stuck deep down in his throat. But he manages.

He doesn't sleep. Not in his bunk. He drifts off sometimes, sitting in the front with James, but that's about it. 

Simon isn't there when they arrive in Nashville Thursday afternoon. It's unusual, as he always checks venue and arrangements before the rest of entourage arrives. 

In the evening, during sound checks, Xander gestures for Harry to come to the side of the stage. 

"Simon texted me," Xander starts as Harry leans down. "He needs to talk to the both of us tomorrow. He's going to be here in the morning. I'm pretty sure he texted you too, I just wanted to let you know. You should really get some sleep tonight." There is honest concern is Xander's eyes, but Harry doesn't want to think about it. He's going to finish his sound check and then bury his thoughts in new lyrics and melodies. 

When Harry gets back to the bus, James is nowhere to be seen and Harry figures he might actually be with Julia this time. He smiles to himself as he crawls into his bunk. 

It's after two a.m. and Harry hasn't slept for a second when he jolts at the sound of Xander's phone vibrating in the bunk across from him. 

Harry closes his songbook and pushes his curtain to the side. Everything remains dark for a second before Xander unlocks his phone and illuminates the small space around him. 

"What is it?" Harry asks quietly. "It's another article isn't it? I knew it was coming."

Their eyes meet for a second before Xander nods. 

"What did I do this time?" Harry sighs, expecting the worse. Somehow talking in the dark of the night is so much easier than in the light of day. 

"The usual," Xander says, his voice is thick with sleep and Harry feels its vibrations deep in his stomach. There is so much wrong with it and he has no idea how he got here. But there's nothing he can do about it. He has nowhere to run from his feelings. "Alcohol, prescription drugs, not enough sleep," Xander adds. He raises his voice a little at the end, making sure Harry knows that the fact that he's not sleeping enough is an actual problem and not just some made-up gossip story. 

"And apparently you are sleeping with tons of girls," Xander informs him, scrolling through his phone. 

"Girls?" Harry asks, ignoring everything else. It's old news anyway. "Is that their Exclusive? Me and a bunch of girls? That's ridiculous." 

"They've got pictures," Xander says. He clears his throat, but doesn't meet Harry's eyes. 

"Of what?" 

"You and the girls from the crew."

"From Sunday?" Harry asks. "The lightning crew?"

"Yeah," Xander says. "But the tabloid has it twisted. 'Instead of bringing just one special girl with him on tour, Styles needs four young ladies to keep him satisfied'," Xander reads out loud. 

"What the fuck?" Harry blurts.

"'He's out of control'," Xander reads on. "'A source close to the singer tells us exclusively. Apparently the pop star spends his nights drinking excessively and bedding two or three girls at once. Even though Styles has denied any alcohol abuse in the past, we have been told that Harry's personal assistant and bodyguard have both fled from his tour bus, forced to sleep on another coach in order to escape the orgies that happen almost every night.'"

"You're right here," Harry says offended. "You didn't have to flee. This is the most boring tour bus ever."

"There are a bunch of pictures of you with the girls," Xander tells him. "Seems as if someone tipped them off about your lunch location. They're all HQs. You hugging Glenne, kissing Perrie on the cheek, joking around with Sophia and Eleanor. They've picked the pictures that appear most flirty."

"I didn't flirt."

"I figured," Xander says. "Otherwise my presence here would be a little overrated."

"Does it mess with our schedule?" Harry asks, suddenly reminded how one article can render all their efforts useless. 

Xander stays quiet. For too long. 

"Does it?" Harry asks again. 

"Listen to this," Xander tells him, ignoring Harry's question. "Even though Styles has only been seen out and about with his assistant during the past few weeks, we've learned the simple reason for this arrangement. 'They used to be each other's wing men,' our insider tells us. 'They would go to concerts or out for drinks and pick up casual fans and groupies.' But lately it seems, Styles has taken things too far. 'No one can keep up with Harry's sexual appetite. He's rather sleeping with three or four ladies the same night than share any of his trophies. What started out as fun, has turned into a huge problem. Everybody is terrified he'll knock someone up.' But Styles has no interest in any of the concerns. 'He's stopped talking to his crew,' the source reveals. Eventually, even his most loyal wing man left Styles' personal sex cave, crept out by what he had to witness every night."

"You made that up, right?" Harry asks in disbelief. 

"Nope," Xander says. 

"What did you just read to me? That can't be a real article. Was that fanfiction?" Harry goes on. 

"Nope," Xander repeats. "It's the article."

"Fuck," Harry curses. "Fuck. What are we going to do now? I'm not going to deny it. It's ridiculous."

"It is," Xander agrees. "You're absolutely right."

"O-okay," Harry says a little surprised. "So we're not going to deny it?"

"We're going to show everyone just how ridiculous it is."

"Now?" Harry asks.

"Tomorrow," Xander says. "It's the middle of the night. You should be sleeping. I mean it. Prove them wrong and sleep, okay? We'll deal with it in the morning." 

"Shouldn't we reach out to someone in London?" Harry asks. "Tell them we've got it covered?"

"They won't act without consulting with Simon first. They'll focus on the album as they should. Don't worry about it. It's going to be okay," Xander tries to assure him. "Just sleep."

"I'll try," Harry lies. He doesn't feel tired at all. He feels tense and nervous. He wants to handle this thing now. He's not a womanizer. Never has been. The whole thing is making him sick to his stomach.

"I can hear you worrying," Xander says annoyed.

"Then don't listen," Harry snaps.

"We've got this. I promise you this is not going to blow up," Xander tries to reassure Harry once more. 

"I know," Harry says annoyed. "I know. I just wish this whole thing would be over. The tour, the album, my coming out, this leak, the press. It's not really how I imagined how things would go."

"They're never as easy as we anticipate. But we've come a long way. I guess about half of your fans will see right through it. They will call it out as a pathetic attempt to force you back into the closet. You're halfway there. Don't give up now," Xander says. "Please."

It hasn't lost any effect since Xander had first said that word to Harry. It still makes Harry shiver inside out. He hates it. 

"Don't give up now," Xander says again, more quietly.

"It feels as if I am running out of air," Harry admits. "Feels like I'm suffocating."

"You need to relax," Xander tells him. "You're worrying yourself into a panic attack. Into a four-week long panic attack."

"I don't know how to relax anymore."

"Sleep," Xander says. 

"I can't get this stuff out of my head," Harry says. What he actually meant to say was: I can't get you out my head. "I can't get my brain to shut up for just a second."

"Have you tried-," Xander says before he stops and waits for an awkwardly long amount of time. "-you know," Xander stumbles over the words. "Tried to make yourself relax. Taking your mind off of things. By, you know, doing things. To yourself."

"I-," Harry starts. "What?"

"Have you tried to make yourself let go. By giving yourself a good time?"

"Oh my god," Harry breathes. "Are you asking me if I tried masturbating to get rid of my insomnia?"

"I guess."

"Thanks," Harry says sarcastically. "You've cured me. I'm so lucky to have you."

"Sometimes it can be healthy," Xander starts.

"Just shut up," Harry tells him, but his dick stirs in his boxers. 

"I can wait outside," Xander offers, not letting it slide. "Give you some privacy."

"I'm good," Harry says. "I really don't need-," he pauses. "-well, _that_. I'm good." Nevertheless, he has to shift a little to adjust himself under the cover. 

"I was just trying to help," Xander says and he sounds open and honest as if he really just wanted to help. 

"I couldn't get into the mood anyway." Yes, Harry's dick is already interested, but his brain is unable to catch up. "Can't stop thinking about work."

"You sound like me," Xander laughs. 

"A bit delusional, aren't you?" Harry says. 

"You're stressed," Xander starts, ignoring Harry's comment. "Because you are under a lot of pressure. You need to find a way to get some release. It doesn't have to be sex. You could try a different work out routine. Or ask Zayn if you can get behind his drum set every once in a while."

Harry is grateful for the darkness, because he did blush as he heard Xander say 'sex' out loud. He's hard now, not particularly turned on, but hard. His body is sending mixed signals.

"I'll try," Harry says. "I really do, but I can't sleep and with every show the exhaustion grows and I simply don't have any strength left for work out."

"I understand," Xander says. 

"And I don't want to get on the drums as they already feel way too loud when I'm on stage. They make me feel more anxious than relaxed. And I'm not going to fuck a random person just for the sake of it."

"Why haven't you said anything earlier?" Xander asks carefully. "About how bad you were feeling?"

"I didn't want it to come true. The article? About me having a break down. I didn't want to be the guy they described." And I didn't want to cry in front of you ever again, Harry thinks. 

"Harry," Xander starts. 

"Don't," Harry interrupts him. "I don't want your pity."

"Try to sleep," Xander says again.

 

* * *

 

 

"I have bad news," Simon announces after Xander slides the doors shut behind them. The back of Harry's tour bus has been officially transformed into their crisis meeting room. 

"Do you mean the new Exclusive?" Harry ask. "'Cause we've got that covered," he says and throws a glance to Xander. They've posted a picture in the morning, of Harry's bunk with the caption: 'What a sex cave, if only there was room for more than one person', in order to mock the article. Harry took another snap of Xander brushing his teeth over the small sink in his bus while he was still in his sweatpants. He doesn't add a caption. It's the first photo he's ever posted of Xander. It doesn't make sense really without a caption. Harry didn't want to prove to the world that his only company was Xander and not a bunch of girls, he wanted to prove to the world that Xander wouldn't have to flee from his bus. It is then, that Harry remembers that he had actually forbidden Xander from leaving. He had contemplated deleting the picture then, but the second he decided, Xander had liked the picture without telling Harry about it. 

When Harry had looked up from his phone to meet Xander's eyes, he had just shrugged. "Saves us a stunt," Xander had said then. And that was it.

 

"I saw," Simon says. "And I know now where this is coming from." 

Xander settles himself next to Harry. 

"What do you mean?" Xander asks. 

"You were right about this being especially for the UK," Simon states. "I have been talking to a few people in the industry. People who owe me some favors."

"What did they say?" Harry asks. 

Simon takes a deep breath and then looks at Harry sympathetically. "It's the label," he says, keeping his eyes on Harry. "They know you are not going to renew the contract. They know you'll leave and they're out for blood."

"What are they doing?" Xander asks, when Harry doesn't manage to get a word out yet. 

"They want to kill your brand. Ruin your reputation. They're the biggest label in Europe. They want to make sure the general public will think they'd be better off without you anyway. They can't reach as far as the US, but they are trying to shut down every opportunity you had to find a new label in the UK."

"How did they find out?" Harry asks confused. "We haven't signed with anyone else yet. We have kept our mouths shut. About the whole affair. They've been treating me like shit for five years, tampering with every album, doing minimal PR, forcing me to release an album in the middle of the tour, setting me up with stunts that were beyond ridiculous. We have been nothing but respectful considering the way they handled my career."

"The leak," Xander says. 

"Yeah, I think that's how they know," Simon agrees. "They didn't even have to convince anyone to spill. They've got their own person here."

"That's ridiculous," Harry says. "I only have one person on tour who's hired by the label and not by us, and-" he stops and frowns as both, Simon and Xander look down to their hands, having accepted what Harry is still bargaining with. "No," Harry says. "It's not true. It's not. I mean, it doesn't make sense."

"It's the only logical conclusion," Simon says carefully. "Why would one of ours talk to the press. To the press in the UK on top of everything." 

"How long have you known?" Harry asks. 

"I found out yesterday night. I texted you as soon as I could, but I wanted to talk to you in person. We have to be careful about our next steps."

"We have to replace him," Harry says. 

"We can't." Simon says. "Like you said, the contract is not with us. But with the label."

"Shit," Harry breathes. "Shit, shit, shit," he curses. "He's involved in everything. In everything!" Harry repeats. "What am I going to do? We've got three weeks left. Three weeks. I cannot _not_ speak to my fucking tour manager for three weeks."

"I should have known," Xander says, talking to his hands. "I should have known weeks ago," he says again, still not looking up.

"What do you mean?" Harry asks.

"I should have known it's Jeff," Xander says. "The night when we celebrated Ben's birthday?" he asks, as if Harry wouldn't remember right away. It was the second night Xander had spend away from Harry, on the other bus. It was the night he came back with the bruise on his chest.

"What happened?" Harry asks.

"He asked questions about me. About how I was doing a lot more than a PA was hired to do. That I was involved with PR a lot. He asked me if I was hired because you expected trouble," Xander tells them.

"Shit," Harry curses again. "He was trying to figure out, if we already knew about their upcoming smear campaign."

"That's not everything," Xander admits. "He was asking me, if we were an item." 

"What did you say?" Harry asks, suddenly scared he will be forcefully outed. 

"I told him no, of course. We wouldn't get any one else involved. I didn't forget. I told him that I was working for you. And that I was taking my job seriously."

"They could be interfering with your coming out," Simon just says. "They paint you as a womanizer. The moment they'll see a coming out approaching, they're going to panic. They wouldn't want to be blamed for closeting you."

"They never did that though. Closeting me. Not like that. Not explicitly." Harry argues. 

"You're going to come out just as the tour ends and your contract with your label won't be renewed. Terrible timing," Simon says. 

"Shit," Harry says again. He just doesn't find a better word for the situation. Everything is just particularly shitty. "We should have known. That it was a stupid idea to get this on the road while considering leaving the label. It was bound to get complicated. If Jeff finds out, we'll go through hell."

"I didn't tell him anything. He has no idea. I assured him I wasn't interested in you. I should have picked up on his interrogation though," Xander admits. "At the time, I thought he was just drunk and trying to tease me."

Harry huffs. "Yeah, 'cause being gay is so funny, right?"

"Can we not do this right now?" Xander asks. "I made sure he would shut up about it."

"By hooking up with every girl on the bus?" Harry snarls. 

"What's going on here," Simon asks confused. 

Harry and Xander stare at each other for a moment before Xander speaks. "Nothing."

"Anything, I should know?" Simon asks.

Harry gives Xander another look before he shakes his head. "No," he says. "What's done is done."

"We need to figure something out," Simon says. "It probably wouldn't even have mattered if we knew back then. There will be more articles. There is no way we can get Jeff off our entourage. We just have to brace ourselves for war."

"We have to put on a better show," Xander says. "We have to force our own narrative to be louder than whatever they put out."

"I'm not going to be a pawn in a big gay war," Harry insists. 

"You're not a pawn, Harry," Simon says. 

"You're the king," Xander finishes and meets Harry's eyes. His expression is serious and Harry's brain feels deliciously empty for a second. 

 

* * *

 

The three of them decide to stay calm until after the show that night. Harry knows he needs to focus, but he can't imagine facing Jeff at all. They're going to come up with something over the weekend, when they got time to rest, and think and brainstorm. Harry stays as far away from Jeff as he can. 

Xander knows. He knows how Harry is feeling and takes it upon himself to distract Jeff as much as possible. It's not an easy task. Jeff cannot get suspicious by his lack of interaction with Harry nor by the increasing time Xander spends with him. Even though Harry knows he should help, should get himself together and pretend everything is normal, he figures it can't get much worse anyway. 

When they're lying in their bunks later, while the three buses move on to Atlanta, Harry wonders if he'll actually be able to sleep again any time soon. 

"I didn't sleep with anyone," Xander says suddenly. It's dark, but not as dark as the night before, as the lights from the street and other cars pass them by. Harry doesn't seek out Xander's eyes though. He keeps them focused on the top of his bunk. 

"I don't think I should know," Harry says. "I don't think it's any of my business." He knows it'll hurt too much if he would have to sit through Xander telling him about what had happened. And he was stupid when he sought out the story himself. 

"He kept making jokes and comments. It got under my skin," Xander goes on, not listening to Harry's protests. "Not because he thought I was gay, but because I felt protective over you. Of your coming out. I didn't want anyone to be suspicious of us. Not before we would want them to. I wasn't prepared. Not for his questions. So I-," he hesitates for a small moment. "So I kissed Glenne."

"Glenne?" Harry says, sitting up in one swift motion, almost hitting his head in the process. "But she's into Jeff herself."

"I know, it's pretty obvious," Xander explains. "I think she wanted to make him jealous. She was quite tipsy herself. We kissed a little. That's all."

"Yeah, right," Harry says and lies back down. He's done with being lied to from everyone around him. 

"It's the truth," Xander insists, and Harry doesn't know why he feels so hurt or why Xander even bothers to keep his lie intact. 

"I won't fire her. You can relax," Harry just says, remembering what he'd talked about with James. 

"Thanks," Xander says. "You still don't believe me though, do you?"

"Where did that hickey come from, Xander?" Harry asks. 

"She bit me," Xander says.

"Bit you?" Harry asks skeptically. 

"She was drunk, I was being an ass," Xander explains and that's actually something Harry can believe. "So she bit me. I was still wearing a shirt and everyone else was still around. It was after we kissed though. I spend the night in her bunk, but nothing happened."

"Like us," Harry says, even though he never meant to say those words out loud. 

Xander stays silent. For longer than Harry can bear. 

"So she bit you?," Harry says. "Isn't that sexual harassment?"

"I made fun of your show," Xander admits. "Her show. It wasn't that bad. I bruise easily."

"Of course you do," Harry says, unsure what to do with that information. "Why do you still make fun of the show?"

"It was three weeks ago," Xander just says. "I haven't made fun of it in forever."

Harry doesn't say anything else. He doesn't know what to say and he doesn't even know why he asked in the first place. Xander's opinion on his show shouldn't matter to him. 

"Are you going to sleep tonight," Xander asks. Harry knows that Xander knows that he's going to disappoint him. Both of them know that the situation hasn't gotten any better. 

"I'll try," Harry says. "I'll try."

"If we're going to be seen even more now," Xander adds. "If we're going to push our own narrative, it would help if you wouldn't have to fake being in a good mood all the time."

"I know," Harry says. He knows he's falling under and losing himself. And definitely not in a good way. But he has no idea what to do about it. 

 

* * *

 

**Week Eight - Atlanta, Houston**

Sleep comes a little easier as Harry settles into his hotel room the next day. His next show is only on Wednesday, so he's got four days left to regain some of his energy. 

Simon, Xander and him agree to keep their current strategy and to ridicule every new article that tries to frame Harry as a party animal, womanizer and alcoholic. Xander helps him tweet more and share more pictures on Instagram so that his fans get to peek behind the curtains of his tour. He wants them to see that it's nowhere near as wild as the gossip magazines makes them believe. He's not allowed to publicly speak up against his label, so they keep to themselves that they know who is behind all this mess. They just keep fighting the war behind the scenes. 

Xander and Harry agree to be seen more, and to appear at least equally flirty as all the pictures that emerge where Harry's supposedly trying to pick up women. 

Harry can't remove Jeff from the tour, but Simon has promised to re-check every arrangement Jeff is responsible for. The label should not have any interest in a bad tour, but Harry is still afraid of sabotage. Actual sabotage. On the shows. It hasn't happened yet, so Harry hopes it won't happen at all. 

Xander and Harry go out for lunch on Sunday and don't wait for fans to take pictures but post them themselves. A day later they go out for drinks with the band, careful as to not get them suspicious about Xander's presence. Harry stays away from any alcohol, just to be safe, and he leaves early with Xander. It is before midnight that they are photographed by actual paparazzi leaving the club and climbing into the same car as well as getting out of the same car together a few minutes later and disappearing into the same hotel. No girls, no other boys, just the two of them. 

On Tuesday, Harry posts a short video of him and Xander playing travel scrabble, and on Wednesday, Harry makes a deliberate choice to be seen arriving at the venue for sound checks carrying an annoyingly bright blue backpack. 

 

* * *

 

The drive to Houston is impossibly long. It will take them about fourteen hours on the road, plus another five or six for the drivers to get some rest in between. Harry dreads it. He was able to get at least some hours of sleep in his hotel bed, but he's not sure he can manage getting some rest in his bunk. 

He's been turning himself back and forth, throwing the covers around for an about an hour before Xander speaks up. 

"It's one thing for you not to sleep," he says. "But why are you so nervous tonight? You're usually more quiet."

"I should just go and join James," Harry says frustrated. "I won't fall asleep anyway."

"You should try," Xander says. "You just came down from a show. Your body needs some time to relax."

"I can't," Harry says. "I know it's been quiet, but with every passing day I get more anxious about what's going to hit us next," he explains.

"We'll handle it. We've handled it all. There's hardly anything left they can throw at us," Xander says. 

"What if they'll out me," Harry says. "To prove that they didn't closet me. We've been more obvious now. What if they know already and the next exclusive will force me out of the closet?" 

"They're trying to ruin your image. Outing you is really not going to help them do it. It's only going to ruin their reputation. Plus, until now, we've not given them anything. I am your assistant. I am expected to be around you."

"Does Jeff still think you're into Glenne?" Harry asks. 

"I don't know," Xander says honestly. "I think so. I had lunch with both of them today."

"Are you interested in her?" Harry asks. He's too tired to properly filter his words now. 

"No," Xander says. 

"'Cause it would be unprofessional?" 

"It would be," Xander agrees. "Unprofessional."

"What's going to happen after Houston?" Harry asks.

"You still up for hand holding?" Xander asks right back.

"Are we going to be smart about it?"

"Have we ever not been smart about anything?"

"Then yes," Harry says.

"We should be able to find some paps in New Orleans and Miami. We'll tip them off if we have to."

"If they'll out me, I'll sue," Harry announces, more to himself than to Xander. He's not able to shake his fears yet. 

Harry hears Xander laughing in his bunk. 

"I mean it," Harry says. 

"I know you do," Xander says. "And you should. It would be the right thing. Sorry," he adds. "I didn't mean to laugh about the whole thing. It's just nice hearing you talk about lawsuits again."

"I should sleep," Harry tells him. 

"Good luck."

 


	7. Chapter 7

Harry does fall asleep eventually, but he doesn't feel any better when he wakes up as the bus comes to a halt in front of the venue. He knows though that he owes every crowd the best show he can put on, and it's what keeps him motivated. It might be his millionth show, but it's always someone's first show, so he has to give his best. He wants to give his best.

And that's what he does. 

He puts all his energy into his new songs in the hope that the crowd will know just how much they mean to him. Xander's not in the audience. He's working with Simon on a thorough strategy for the next weeks. Somehow being on stage without seeing Xander in front of the stage feels different now. Harry's gotten used to it. It shouldn't feel familiar. It shouldn't feel like it's the way things are supposed to be. Xander will be gone. In a matter of weeks they won't see each other ever again. And even though all of it had been fake, he will however be written into Harry's public history as the PA he may or may not have been in love with. 

Things will eventually go back to normal, Harry tells himself. Or rather they'll settle into his new normal. Once he'll be out and can do whatever he wants to, can date whoever he wants to, can write songs about whoever he wants to, he'll forget about Xander. He needs to prepare himself for the inevitable though. He needs to prepare himself for not having Xander managing his PR behind the scenes. He needs to prepare himself for maybe seeing Xander around. With someone else. With another client. It's business after all. 

He's going to move on. He's going to take a short break and then start working on his new album. He doesn't want to go into hiding after coming out. He feels it would send the wrong message. Instead he wants to finally make an album that expresses all sides of him. All his fears and desires and experiences. He wants to take control. And it feels right. He can't wait for it to happen. For too long, other people have influenced the creative decisions, have told him what to do and what not to do. Even now, handling the situation, is not entirely in his control. He knows Simon and Xander take his opinions into account, but it doesn't feel as if he's making any decisions. He has to trust them to know what they're doing. 

If it was up to him, he'd approach Jeff and the label head on. Try to come to an agreement. Try to settle for something better than a war between teams and narratives. There have to be better options. 

After the show, they move to New Orleans right away. They're going to stay in a hotel for a few nights before the show once more and even for two days after the show before taking on the two-day trip to Miami. With only four shows left, things have calmed down. The crew is looking forward to wrapping things up and going home. Harry is ready to start phase four and eventually confirming what some have suspected all along. He hopes his team and crew, those who don't know yet, will still continue working with him, will still enjoy working with him. If it was up to him he wouldn't swap any of his crew members. Not even Jeff. He wants him to be on board. To be on his side. He's always been doing a great job as a tour manager and Harry hopes that the only reason he betrayed him was that, he too, was contractually obliged to do so. Maybe he's in denial. Maybe he was being naive. He's been in the business long enough now to know, that these things happen. But they've never happened to him. No one has tried to screw him over like that before. He should have known it would happen. 

Even though, both Simon and Xander assured him that things were under control Harry is living in a constant state of anxiety now. He's expecting the worst at any second of the day. There will be more articles, there will be more scams, more rumors and more gossip. There will be more lies. And there is nothing he can do about it. 

 

* * *

  

There were rainbow flags in the crowd at the concert, there were signs of love and support. There were a few girls with prints of pictures of Harry and Xander in the first row. 'We'd hit that too', was written around the picture and they'd drawn some hearts on the edges of the poster. But there were also a few bras thrown on stage, lots of love declaration and fainting fans after he smiled or waved at them. Maybe that's just how concerts are supposed to be. No matter if the artist is straight or not. Maybe everyone deserves to have underwear thrown at them. Okay, maybe not. 

"Crowd's missed you apparently," Harry tells Xander when they're back on the bus and on the road. 

"Can't blame them," Xander says smugly. 

"You're really annoying."

"Your fans think otherwise."

"They just like you, because they think I like you," Harry says. 

"Keep telling yourself that," Xander says and grins. It annoys Harry so much, that he turns off the light and rolls around to face the wall instead of Xander. 

"Oh come on," Xander complains behind him. "It's not my fault your fans have welcomed me into their lives just like that. I worked hard to appeal to the younger crowd," he says laughing. "I deserve to celebrate that."

"You're not here to stay though," Harry admits, still facing away from Xander. He can't bear looking at him while feeling as vulnerable as he does. 

"They'll live," Xander says, not picking up on Harry's own desperation. "We could fabricate a scandal to ease the parting pain," Xander jokes, but Harry's not in the mood for any of it. 

"Will it paint you as the asshole you are?" Harry snaps back. He knows he's being unfair. Xander's not a complete asshole. But Harry has always been more on the black-and-white-thinking-side of things.

"If you'd want that," Xander just says. And if he sounds defeated Harry chooses to ignore it. 

"What did Simon say?" Harry asks, deflecting from everything that's lingering between them. 

"He's confident things will calm down once the tour ends. You'll have met all the obligations and brought in big money. When the tour is done you'll be able to focus more on what they put out and Simon doesn't think they'd want to take that further with you being able to disprove them by doing your own thing. They have no idea, you have been doing your own thing all along. Which is good. It gives us an advantage."

"What if I won't be able to sign with anyone else because of the lies they spread? What are we going to do then?"

"I don't think that's going to happen," Xander says with a tone that has Harry frowning. "It's not really," Xander starts quietly. "It's not really anything I'd be involved in." He finishes and Harry has to shut is eyes tight. He has to block out what's coming next. "I'm pretty sure, your team will make sure you'll sign to the best label available. You're a good artist. You'll be fine."

Xander's not Harry's manager. He's not his PA. He's not head of PR. His only job is to enable Harry a safe coming out. That's it. And Harry really, really needs to remember that. He needs to let go. And he needs to let go soon. For his own sake. 

"Sorry," Harry mumbles, unable to say anything else. 

"Harry," Xander starts, but never finishes the sentence and Harry doesn't react. He lies awake long after the last word has been spoken and listens to the constant hum of the engine as bus moves east. Over the background sound he can't make out Xander's breathing. Harry knows he's there. If he'd reached out with his hand across the isle he could probably touch Xander's shoulder. But he doesn't. And it almost feels as if he was all alone on the bus once again. After another hour has passed, Harry climbs out of his bunk, careful not to make much noise and makes his way to the driver's area.

"Hey," James greets him when he reaches the front of the bus. His voice low but cheerful.

"Hi," Harry says and sinks into the comfortable passenger seat.

"Trouble sleeping?" James asks.

"What else is new," Harry mumbles. He's exhausted. Physically, but he can't get his mind to quiet down. He hasn't been sleepy in weeks. He can't remember the last time he felt calm and relaxed. He works on two modes these days. He works excessively and unceasingly until his body simply shuts down. He doesn't remember the last time he's yawed or fallen asleep to the gently pull of the silken slumber. Instead he knows nausea and headaches and shaking hands. And then nothing until he wakes a few hours later in full blown panic over the minutes he spent unconscious, ready to get back to it, to work, to worry, to wistfulness. 

"What's on your mind?" James asks and Harry reminds himself that they are friends, genuine friends, and that he can let his guard down, allow himself to trust. 

"It's work," Harry says, testing the waters with his own words. "It's the label," he adds. "We're not exactly on the same page anymore."

"Inconsolable differences?" James asks. 

"I guess you could call it that," Harry huffs. 

"You need a break," James says. "A vacation." 

"Might not be necessary," Harry says. "Not when I'll be unemployed soon."

"Hey, no," James argues. "You're too good. You're an amazing performer. Every label would be lucky to have you."

"Sometimes that's not enough. This feels like politics."

"Tour's almost over. You'll figure it out, once you'll get to sleep in your own bed," James says and gives Harry a quick smile. "Are you looking forward to the break?"

Harry thinks for a moment. He does. He's needs more room to be with himself and to just breathe. But he also knows he has a storm coming. One he can't tell James about. One that will mark the beginning of a new life for him, and simultaneously the end of a long struggle, of a long plan, of his contract with Xander. 

"I'm gonna miss this, though," Harry admits. "The hours spent on the bus, the crowds, these talks," he mirrors James smile from before. 

"How's the heart?" James asks then.

"Literally?"

"Metaphorically."

"Heavy," Harry breathes. And James nods thoughtfully. 

"He's gotten under your skin, huh? I know that feeling."

"I hate him," Harry says and he's not lying. "But when he's not around, I feel vulnerable. Too vulnerable. It scares me," he adds, still being truthful. "I just don't know when it happened. Or why. I am used to not being with him. I don't even know him that long. I don't understand what happened."

James laughs at that. "I think it's called falling in love?"

"I'm not in love with him."

"You've just been pining for seven weeks because he's so good at scheduling your laundry and booking your lunch reservations?"

"I haven't been pining," Harry insists.

"And you haven't been jealous either, of course," James teases.

"It's unprofessional," Harry just says, repeating himself and Xander's words. 

"That doesn't make it wrong," James says carefully. 

"It's not mutual." Harry doesn't dare to look at James, so he just stares out of the window on the empty street in front of them.

"It's still not wrong," James assures him. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I know," Harry says, but he doesn't know if he does know. All he's ever known was shame. He's never been with anyone before his first record was available in stores. He's never had a boyfriend when he wasn't supposed to hide it. He was never in love without having to hide it. "He's not though," Harry says quietly. "Gay."

"Have you seen him?" James asks. "When he watches you on stage? It's like the world around him ceases to exist. There's only you then. And it's not just when you're on stage. You only need to be around."

No, he hadn't noticed. If he's completely honest, Harry can't recall any memory of really focusing on how Xander looks at him when he's with Harry. He's too busy focusing on himself. On how he looks at Xander. On how he talks with him. On thinking, on plotting, on breathing. On work, on The Big Gay War that's been going on. There was never any room for the simple consideration that maybe there would be the slightest chance, the tiniest shred of hope, that Xander was actually and honestly looking at Harry and was seeing something other than business. 

He shakes his head. 

"I've never seen anyone moving this careful in a tour bus before," James goes on. "He's very aware of when you need some space or some peace and quiet. He watches out for your stuff. More than any of us."

"It's because he's new," Harry says, because he's just not yet ready to hear what James is suggesting.

"It's because he cares."

"He misses home. He has a cat, you know. Not everyone's made for the road," Harry says absently. 

James eyes him over for a second. "You mean, not everyone's made for being with someone on the road?"

Harry shrugs and continues staring out of the window. 

* * *

 

  **Week Nine - New Orleans, Miami**

Harry enjoys the comfort of his hotel room. Not because of the bed, but because it gives him a sense of home. He's got a mini fridge filled with all his favorite candy bars and cans of lemonade, he's got a shower that's definitely more comfortable than the one in his dressing rooms. He can exercise while watching TV and listen to his favorite music without headphones for once.  

It's Saturday night, shortly after nine when someone knocks at his door. Harry had just cuddled up under the blanket to catch up on the latest episode of some random procedural crime drama and he considers simply not answering for a second, before he decides that he is not that rude and drags himself out of bed. He's barefoot, in one of his many sweatpants and wearing the Pink Floyd shirt Xander had been wearing four weeks ago when they've been out shopping together. 

When Harry cracks the door open, it's where Xander's eyes fall first before he meets Harry's for a second and then his gaze drops to Harry's lips for just another heartbeat. 

Harry is paralyzed for as long as that heartbeat lasts, then panic surges through his body. 

"What is it?" he asks frenzied. "Another article? Something worse?"

Xander looks up at him in confusion for a moment before he shakes his head.

"No," he says quickly. "Sorry, I just wanted to go over tomorrow's stunt with you. If you're up for it. I know it's late. We can do it tomorrow morning."

Harry pauses. And thinks. And finally takes the time to just look at the person in front of him. 

Xander's hair is all messy and a little damp. He'd probably taken a shower before he came up to Harry's room. He doesn't look tired, not like Harry who starts to look tired all the time. Xander's got a little stubble and Harry secretly wants him to keep it for their outing tomorrow. A worn out, soft-looking plain white shirt hangs loosely off his shoulders. His neck looks longer than Harry remembered, but that might just be the stretched out neck line that exposes his throat almost down to his collarbone. Xander's ears are too small for his head, but Harry's not the one to talk. His lips are red and wet and judging by Xander's minty breath, they're slightly swollen because he'd just brushed his teeth. In the darkness of the hallway Harry can hardly make out the color of Xander's eyes. He knows they're blue though. But he can't remember anymore if it was a light-blue, a grey-blue or a dark blue. Harry's tired of blue eyes anyway. 

"It's fine," Harry says eventually. "I don't mind going over it now." He steps aside to let Xander in.

When Xander moves past him, Harry gets a whiff of his cologne. It smells expensive. And masculine. Harry's own cologne has been empty since halfway through the tour. He hasn't bothered buying a new one. He'll probably do that at the airport once he leaves for London after the tour ends.

"Were you watching this?" Xander asks, pointing at the TV.

Harry shakes his head. He wasn't paying attention anyway. Xander switches the screen off and sits down on the edge of Harry's bed. Watching the amount of familiarity and confidence with which Xander moves around his room sends soft shivers down Harry's back.

Xander eyes Harry up and down from where he's sitting across from him and smiles when he catches Harry's naked feet. Harry rolls his eyes and then climbs on his bed too, settling against the headboard.

"So," he starts. "What do I need to know?"

Xander stays where he's sat at the foot of the bed, but he pulls his legs up and crossed them under himself as he faces Harry.

"We should make sure we're on the same page. About what's going to happen," Xander says.

"What are the options?" Harry asks. 

"We could go see the French Quarter, hit up some tourist spots. Or go to the zoo? There are tons of interesting museums in the city, too. Although, I doubt we'd run into a lot of people there on a Sunday afternoon. It'd be better for us, if we'd run into more people," Xander explains.

"Maybe we should just postpone it until Monday?"

"If we're out on Sunday we make sure the articles about the outings can be published on Monday morning. That's a better timing then Tuesday. We don't want to be buried under significant entertainment news. Those are usually out in the middle of the week," Xander says. He folds his hands in his lap and waits for Harry's decision.

Harry takes a second break to just pay attention to the guy he's known for three months now. They've slept together. Not, like _slept_ together, but they spend the night sleeping next to each other. Harry had been so close to him physically without really realizing how close they'd gotten emotionally. How attached he's gotten. To Xander's voice and his quick thoughts. To his intelligence and his honesty. He still trusts him. But Harry knows that underneath the professional trust he puts into everyone he's working with closely, like Simon or Caroline, trust he'd even felt in regards to Jeff before their recent discovery, that underneath his professional trust in Xander something else had snuck into Harry's heart. 

"French Quarter sounds nice," he decides and Xander nods. 

"We can post a few pictures," Xander suggests. "We can get some coffee, if you want. Sit down for lunch." Xander's being more careful than usually while he talks to Harry, but Harry can't quite figure out why. 

"Sure," he says, still wondering where this is going. "The usual stunt stuff," he says dismissively. 

"We should talk about intensifying the message we're sending," Xander adds. 

"What does that mean?"

Behind Xander's professional facade, Harry can sense his nervousness. He wouldn't have picked up it, not if they'd been in his office in New York, but here, on a hotel bed in Louisiana, after spending eight weeks together on a bus, Harry can finally see behind the business exterior. 

"We've been joking about hand holding a lot," Xander starts digging the heels of his palms into the muscles above his knees. "We should work on portraying more physical intimacy-," he pauses. "I don't think hand holding is the way to go though. It's short of a coming out itself. If you were strolling along the river with me holding your hand. And that's not what we want, right?"

Harry gets it. He really does. He's said early on that he wants to come out alone. And that he has no interest in making people assume that he and Xander have something more serious going on. But- 

It hurts. It hurts nonetheless. It feels like a rejection even though Harry hadn't ask for anything. Yet. 

So Harry nods along to Xander's words while his heart bleeds out into his chest. 

Harry has fucked up before. He'd been accidentally papped with his naked butt on display. He had been falling on stage and off of the stage. He has tweeted bad stuff on accident and out of naivety. But he has never felt more pathetic than in this moment. When even he cannot find any excuses anymore, but has to admit that somewhere along the way, without him noticing, without him agreeing to what was happening, that somewhere along the way he had fallen in love with Xander.

"I want you to wear my jacket. You've mentioned it yourself. You're fans are smart. They'll pick up on it before anyone else. Can I touch you? When we're out?" Xander asks. "Put my arm around you? It's more ambiguous than hand holding," he clarifies. "Would that be okay?"

Harry nods. 

"Maybe we can share some food?" Xander asks.

Harry nods again, not participating fully in their conversation or the whole situation in general for that matter. 

"You can say no, you know," Xander reminds him.

"No, it's fine," Harry assures him.

"Are you afraid it won't be enough? To counter their womanizer narrative?" Xander asks. "I really believe it will. I wouldn't suggest it otherwise. But if you step out holding hands with a man now, there will be too much media buzz for us to handle. We wouldn't be in control. Not now. Not if our outlets aren't involve. Not with you being on stage every other night. Not with me concentrating on stunts and not monitoring your image. This is in your best interest." Xander's too far away to actually touch him, but he reaches out in an attempt to connect to Harry, and puts his hand on the sheets somewhere between them. 

"Are we still on the right track?" Harry asks, feeling insecure. 

"Absolutely." 

"I shouldn't be this scared," Harry says. "It's not the first stunt of my life. And it's by far the tamest one," he jokes but avoids Xander's eyes.

"I'll be there every step of the way."

"Are you going to tip the paparazzi off? Or is Simon going handle it?"

"We'll step out first," Xander explains. "We'll see who recognizes you. Hopefully, we'll take a few fan pictures. If everything goes well, one or two of the photographers will pick up on the social media trends and try to snap you. If it'll become obvious that it won't happen, I'll send Simon a text. He's got two people on stand-by and will tip them off immediately."

"Should I prepare for questions?" Harry asks.

"No, keep your head down and we'll move along. We're not going to do an impromptu press conference. We just want some of the bigger outlets to buy the HQs and run counter stories with our narrative in the U.S."

"Bodyguards?" Harry asks.

"They'll be in the car that drops us off and will pick us up again. They'll never be too far. But I'd like for us to make a more private impression."

"Anything else you want me to do? Besides wearing the jacket?"

"Don't bring your phone," Xander says. "We're going to do fan service, but I don't want them to ask you to follow them on Twitter or Instagram. We won't have time for that. It's only going to cause potential risks. I'll have my phone ready to call Simon or the driver," Xander says. 

"What about uploading pictures?" 

"Either I'll do it, or we post them later. Tomorrow evening. Around the same time. If anyone picks up on it, they'll assume were together, reminiscing the beautiful afternoon."

"Anything else?" Harry asks. 

"Dress down," Xander tells him. "But bring something that's easy to recognize. A scarf or a bag or whatever. Something you're fans will notice right away."

"Aren't you going to wear something of mine?" Harry asks.

Xander grins at him then. "I wanted to ask you for that shirt actually. Thought wearing it for the second time might be a good choice. People could either assume it's mine or that I just really like wearing your stuff."

Harry looks down at himself and pulls a little at the hem of the t-shirt, before he looks up and faces Xander again.

"I'll give it to you tomorrow?"

Xander nods. "Don't worry about it."

"That's all?" Harry asks then.

"Technically yes," Xander says.

"But?"

"Are you up for it?" Xander asks, concern in his voice and expression. "Will you sleep a little?"

"I am," Harry assures him. "And I'll try."

"Anything you don't want me to do?" Xander asks.

"What do you mean?" Harry frowns, not comprehending what Xander wants him to address.

"Anything you'd be uncomfortable with? It's not just coffee or a casual outing," Xander reminds him. "This time it counts. This is not for the fandom. It's for the general public. You have to look comfortable with me. The pap pictures need to tell a story without us giving it much context. We have no way of knowing who is going to buy them and we cannot control what they'll write. Our partner outlets are only going to run with our story in the next phase. When we give them the narrative and they'll lead the media coverage. This is testing the waters and I need you to be concentrated and focused and happy and I need you to trust me."

"I do trust you," Harry says without any hesitation. "I'm up for it. I can't think of anything that would make me feel uncomfortable."

"You're almost there," Xander tells him again. "Don't forget that. It's not long now and no one will be able to threaten you with outing you ever again. It'll be in the past. It won't ever be used against you again. Just as it's supposed to be."

Harry blinks the tears away that were pressing against the edge of his eyes. It's the first time Xander has ever acknowledged that Harry's sexuality is not supposed to be filled with that much shame or secrecy and that it is not supposed to cause this much conflict. 

"We're going to pull this off. Together," Xander says. He pats the bedspread with is flat hand a few times, trying to get Harry's attention. 

"Has there been another article?" Harry asks. 

Xander shakes his head. "No. It's been really quiet."

"Why?"

"If they're planning something, they're going to release it mid-week. Which makes the stunt tomorrow even more vital. We can shape the gossip of the whole week. We can make their exclusive obsolete by providing others with picture exclusives."

"Shouldn't we come up with another strategy?" Harry asks, the nervousness that has become his default emotion suddenly back in place. Xander seems notice. He reaches out a little further, shuffles even a little closer to make physical contact with him. Xander wraps his fingers gently around Harry's ankle and squeezes lightly. 

"We're working on it, Harry," Xander says and somehow the way he says his name out loud causes Harry's chest to relax a little. "It's not your job to come up with a PR-strategy. You have a manager and a team for it. And me. You got me now too. Believe me, we're working on it with all the resources we've got."

"I-," Harry starts. He doesn't really have any words though. "I should probably get some sleep."

Xander smiles. "Yeah, you should." He pulls his hand back slowly. "And don't worry, okay? You've got more people working for you than against you. And not just more people. Better people."

"Thanks," Harry says quietly. "Thank you."

"I'll get you tomorrow morning," Xander adds.

"Maybe not too early?" Harry asks. He should really get as much rest as possible.

"Of course not. I'll make sure no one disturbs you. What are PAs for?" Xander jokes as he finally stands next to Harry's bed, ready to leave. 

Harry laughs at that. "The best one I ever had," he says cheerfully, but he's not joking at all. 

 

* * *

  

About sixteen hours later, Xander and Harry step out in the French Quarter. Harry is dressed a little too warm for the temperatures of the late summer in Louisiana with wearing one of Xander's sweater jackets over a thin black shirt. It's the same jacket he's worn in pictures before and to the concert they both went to, so Harry hopes his fans will notice sooner rather than later. Xander's wearing the Pink Floyd shirt, just like he's said the night before. Harry had given it to him earlier. He was worried that Xander would feel uncomfortable wearing it directly after Harry had worn it, without it being washed first, but Xander hadn't complained and hadn't shown any signs of discomfort. So Harry figured it wasn't too bad. He doesn't think Xander's jacket is freshly washed either, because it smells more likes Xander's cologne than of laundry detergent.

They stroll along the streets, take pictures of the historical village and visit little souvenir shops. Every now and then a fan or at least someone recognizing Harry asks them for a picture and Harry tries his best to genuinely smile in all of them. He's wearing his golden boots -, thinking if anyone would really doubt it was him, the shoes would be a sure-fire way to give him away-, and black skinny jeans. He's tied his hair in a bun to go for a more low-key look.

Whenever Xander is asked to be in the fan-pictures, he puts his arm around Harry and tugs him close. He leads Harry through the streets with a hand on his back or on his elbow. In one of the stores, while Harry plays with a New Orleans snow globe in his hands, Xander hooks his chin over Harry's shoulder and watches the artificial flakes dance over a tiny replica of the French Quarter.

"Want me to buy it for you?" Xander asks. His voice his low and Harry feels it vibrating through his shoulder and back. 

Harry decides that if there ever was a moment to be shamelessly selfish it was this one, so he nods and hands the globe over to Xander who makes his way to the checkout counter. 

Things go really well until they sit down for coffee and dessert in a small café in one of the street corners. They have clearly underestimated the situation, because instead of one or two paparazzi, two dozen show up in front of the little restaurant accompanied by approximately fifty fans. 

"They're going to be down the street in about seven minutes," Xander tells Harry after he finishes taking to Paddy on the phone. 

Harry keeps glancing through the windows, watching the chaos unfold. 

"It's my fault," Xander says. "Again. I fucked up again. I didn't think there would be so many people. I would have suggested a restaurant with a back entrance or at least with parking in front. I should have never agreed to this. I should have known that this could happen."

Harry had asked for them to sit down in the little local bakery, whose entrance was hidden in a tiny backstreet away from the broader pedestrian area. 

"No," Harry argues. "I wanted to have coffee here. I insisted. And I know about the possibility of getting mobbed too. This isn't on you. And we'll just have to make it down the street. It's a little inconvenient, but we shouldn't complain about the attention. It's what we came for after all, right?"

"Right," Xander agrees. "You ready to face the mob?"

Harry fishes a few dollars including a generous tip out of his wallet before he tucks it away safely in the pocket of his jeans. He gives Xander a reassuring smile while he nods. 

"We still got about four minutes left," Xander informs him. 

"Any last-minute instructions?" Harry asks.

"Stay close. Don't run, but don't stop. Keep your head down. I'll guide you through the crowd. Don't engage with photographers or fans. Just keep walking. Don't look too miserable. Don't panic, if someone grabs you. I'll be right behind you. Paddy will get us as soon as we're within sight."

"Got it," Harry says. 

They exchange another look before they stand up and move towards the exit. Xander puts both his hands on Harry's shoulders about two seconds before Harry pulls the door open and unleashes a firework of flashlights and a cacophony of voices and shouts and desperate cries from fans. 

Harry does as he was told and keeps his head down, gaze focused on his own booted toes, as Xander gently pushes him through the crowd, constantly telling people to give them space and move out of the way. Fans and photographers alike shove phones and cameras in Harry's face and block the way to the car. The crowd shoves and pushes around and in his struggle to move forward and not stop in his track, one of the heavier cameras hits Harry against the temple who jerks in reaction to the sudden pain and protectively puts his arm over his face. 

Xander reacts instantly and pushes past Harry, taking his hand in a tight grip. Like an icebreaker he keeps on walking through the crowd, not letting go of Harry, but instead he pulls him flush against his back. Harry buries his face against Xander's spine, trying to hide from the cameras. Their fingers are laced together and Harry curls his other hand around Xander's biceps, clawing at Xander's arm, not allowing any space between them. Every few second he feels someone tugging on his sweater, feels fingers brushing along his arms, shoulders, or back. He's scared someone will pull him back or yank the hood of his sweater, of Xander's sweater, and subsequently choke him. 

The panic only makes him push forward, firm and closer, always closer against Xander's back. His fingers dig harder into Xander's arm, probably painfully hard, but Harry refuses to let go. To his relief, Xander strengthens his grip on Harry's hand too, holding his hand tight and safe as he leads him through the mob. He uses his free hand, to fight off overly eager fans or encroaching photographers. His range is limited though, by Harry's hand on his upper arm and his face that is pressed against Xander's shoulder blades. 

It doesn't take long though, before Harry makes out Paddy's voice in the noise around him, and soon enough he feels his presence behind him, defending him from unwanted touches while Xander leads them down the street to the car. Paddy keeps everyone at arm's length while Xander pulls open the car door, climbs into the back seat and pulls Harry in behind him. He only lets go off Harry's hand to untangle their arms so that both of them can put their seat belts on. Paddy covers the door with his body until Harry got all his limbs in the safety of the car and then shuts the door in one swift motion. 

"Keep your head down still," Xander tells him and wraps one hand around Harry's neck pulling him towards his shoulder. Harry is pliant under Xander's touch and lets his head be guided down until his forehead collides with Xander's chest. Xander's hands moves from his neck down his shoulderblades and settles somewhere on his spine. 

Harry can still hear the calls and shouts outside and see  the flashlights going off through the tinted windows. 

He doesn't look up, not even when Paddy gets into the passenger seat in the front, exposing them to lights and noise once more until he can shut the door safely without accidentally chipping of someone's hands or fingers. 

"Just until we pulled into traffic," Xander murmurs and rubs his thumb along Harry's spine in comfort. 

Half a minute later, Harry can finally sit up straight again.

"You okay?" Xander asks. 

Harry nods. "Yeah, thanks. I'm fine."

Xander brings one of his hands up and places his palm gently against Harry's cheek to carefully turn Harry's head and get a better look at his temple. 

"We need to get you some ice when we're back at the hotel," he says after examining the bruised skin. "Does it hurt?"

"Just a little," Harry says. He had already forgotten about the incident. But the skin on his temple feels hot, and he would have probably been reminded of the collision as soon as he'd tried to lay down on the side. 

Harry can't register what happens when Xander softly blows some cool air against the throbbing skin. At the same time he tucks Harry's hair behind his ear, so Harry doesn't know if he was trying to get rid of some rebellious strands or whether it was an innocent gesture of comfort. 

Harry is dying to ask Xander if he thinks they messed up by their exit, but he catches Paddy glancing at them through the rearview mirror and he has to remind himself that even Paddy doesn't know about Xander's real job, so he keeps it to himself. 

 

* * *

 

They hadn't fucked up. Even though they had agreed not to hold hands which eventually happened nonetheless in less ideal circumstances, and even though they got mobbed and had to act on autopilot rather than their rational PR-minds, they've essentially gotten what they wanted. Dozens of articles are published just a day later documenting their day. Some headlines are more bold than others, but the articles seem similar.

 

_'Harry Styles: Cake and Coffee with Friend'_

_'Poor Harry! Popstar Gets Mobbed On His Day Off'_

_'Real-Life Bodyguard Adaption - Harry Styles Is Guided To Safety By Hot Mate'_

_'Bromance Or Romance? Harry Styles Keeps Male Friend Close As Fans Mob Him'_

_'Harry Styles Hides Face As He Leaves Café Barbe à Papa in New Orleans_

_'Harry Styles Coffee Date: Who's The Mystery Man Holding His Hand'_

 

Even though a lot of the articles tease a scandalous gay romance they all refer to Xander as 'Styles' personal assistant' or 'close friend'. Xander tells him that it wasn't surprising as the magazines had no idea how Harry would react to the gossip. Obviously, no magazine was eager to get sued. The articles include pictures of Harry and Xander leaving the café and even Harry is surprised by how close they'd been clinging to each other. 

Only two articles of the ones Harry deems worthy to read include pictures of the two walking along the streets and a beautiful snap through the window of the souvenir shop, picturing Harry with the snow globe in his hands and Xander with his chin propped up on his shoulder. 

' _The pair got closer as they fled from the fans into a local souvenir shop. Even though rumors link Styles to various women, he has only been seen getting cosy with his assistant in public.'_

Harry rolls his eyes at the mention of his fans, because he didn't have to flee from them at all if it hadn't been for the paparazzi who'd joined them and he was definitely not fleeing from them before the picture was taken. But tabloids love drama and they have it out for his fans anyway.

His fans are a lot smarter though, or at least they do better research, because they have picked up the clothes, the sweater and the t-shirt, and have noticed the little touches between them in the photos with fans. 

He scrolls through Twitter to get an idea what everyone in his fandom is talking about. 

_'how much more proof do some people need, he's obviously screwing his assistant. Good for him'_

_'A SNOW GLOBE??? HOW SAPPY I LOVE THEM'_

_'who cares if he's gay, let's hope he'll post more pics of shirtless Xan'_

_'protective and possessive... xander is head over heels. no doubt'_

_'i wonder if all these girls he's rumored to fcuk know about what harry's been up to behind their backs'_

Harry flinches at that. He's not going behind anybody's back. He's not a cheater. He would never. He's glad though that most of his fans have accepted the possibility that Harry would actually date a man. Luckily, even the last tweet isn't left without a more positive reply.

_'Exactly, RUMORED to be with. Even the rags noticed that he only feels up Xan in public lol'_

"And all of this is really good?" Harry asks Xander. Their empty breakfast plates are sitting between them, but Harry still has to finish his juice. 

"I'm surprised by how well your fans are taking whole thing," Xander admits. "Usually the transition during stunting is met with more resistance and they go through all five stages of grief. But your fans? They went straight from bargaining to acceptance. I guess some are still stuck in denial. But I doubt they'll change their minds even after you come out. So, it doesn't really matter. They'll still buy your records."

"Are we doing another stunt while we're here?" Harry takes another sip from his glass and glances at Xander, hoping he won't see beyond his casual expression.

"Not sure yet," Xander says. "I don't want to risk getting mobbed again. Plus, you should focus on the show first. Maybe afterwards, but I'll have to discuss it with Simon before making a final decision."

"Is he not on the same page as us?" Harry asks. 

Xander hesitates and it makes Harry's skin crawl from nervousness yet again.

"What is it?" Harry urges. "Does he have objections suddenly? I thought he trusted you."

"He does," Xander laughs. "And he trusts you," he adds. "No objections, it's just-," he looks at Harry for a moment. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but there seem to be offers from new labels. In the U.S. who are willing, and eager, to get you on board. But Simon is still checking the contracts. He wanted your lawyers to take a look before he'll present them to you."

Harry's jaw drops and he almost lets go of the glass he's still holding. Luckily, he only spills a few drops on the white table cloth. He grimaces at the stains before facing Xander again. 

"Are you serious?" 

"Like I said, I wasn't supposed to tell you. Simon didn't want you to get your hopes up, in case their conditions were unacceptable. But there's a chance you might get a new team soon to handle at least some of the bad press." Xander smiles at Harry from across the table who beams at back at him in return. 

"I can make another album," Harry blurts. 

"Looks like it, yeah," Xander agrees. 

"I can still make music after, you know, right?" Harry asks.

"Simon's being extra careful not to miss any morality clauses that could entail anything regarding sexuality. We got your back, don't worry," Xander assures him once more.

"I'm gonna make another album," Harry repeats. He still can't believe things are already looking up. 

"I promised Simon not to get your hopes up until it was all clear, so,-"

"Yeah, I got it," Harry interrupts. "I'm going to assume the worst. No album yet. You're right. I'm going to focus on the show and we'll see what Simon has to say after."

 

* * *

 

Remembering what James had told him those few days ago, Harry starts to glance at Xander more often during his performance. More often and with more focus. He's not so sure that everything else truly ceases to exist for Xander as he watches Harry entertain an audience of about twenty-thousand people.

But one thing is sure: In an ocean of fans, Xander is definitely the only wave strong enough to sweep Harry off his feet. 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

"So," Simon starts the day after the concert. Harry had been playing it cool but he was beyond ecstatic to finally meet with Simon and hear about the offers. "Labels in the UK are hesitant to sign you on. It's not big surprise as they all belong to the same music group as our label. Business chatter travels quick, so unfortunately our best alternative is not an option anymore." Simon continues and Harry's heart drops. "But," Simon says with a smile playing on his lips. "One of the Big Three is still interested as well as two independent labels which are based solely in the US."

"What does that mean?" Harry asks. "Our best alternative is not an option anymore?"

"The label we've had our eyes on? They would still sign you, but to hideous conditions," Simon explains. "I'm not going to let you sign a contract that much worse as the one you're in now. I'd be a terrible manager. We'd rather keep your head above the water by touring small clubs for two years before letting you get crushed under corporate policies."

Even though Harry knows Simon has his best interest at heart, it still feels impossibly good to hear it again. 

"What about the third label?" Xander asks and, honestly, it only occurs to Harry now that Xander doesn't have any business being in this meeting. But Harry feels better when he's in the room.

"The third one offers great conditions," Simon says and turns to Harry again. "They want three albums, forty-five songs minimum, and three world-tours. But you don't have to deliver within three years. They ask for you to complete your contract within sixty months. They offer you an extension of three more albums if both parties are content. They have a huge marketing team and are ready to take over promotion and PR immediately. 15 percent royalties which is,-" Simon gives Harry a sympathetic look once he notices his disappointed expression. "Which is not a lot, but they offer you more creative freedom than you had before."

"How much?" Harry asks.

"Twelve," Simon just says.

The silence stretches between them as Harry contemplates. 

Xander glances back and forth between Harry and Simon. "Twelve what?" he asks finally.  

"Twelve million." Simon replies.

"Holy shit," Xander breathes as Harry remains quiet. "You're worth twelve million?"

"Advance?" Harry asks Simon, ignoring Xander who still looks rather shocked. Harry has no idea why, because he has five albums out and is currently on a world tour. Gossip magazine and blogs write about him every day. He simply is a big deal. 

"20 percent," Simon tells him. 

Harry huffs. Yes, it's more money than he signed on for about five years ago, but he knows he's supposed to be worth about two million dollars more than that. If it hadn't been for that smear campaign. 

"What about those indie labels?" Harry asks. 

"You know those are no real options," Simon says in a serious tone. "Not for you. Not with how much you got going on already. No independent label would be able to handle it appropriately. You need someone ready for the big market. You're not just a musician. You're a brand. This is not just about records and you know that."

Harry nods.

He knows. But sometimes he wishes he could try all over again. With a smaller label, on local grounds. "Is there room for negotiations?" he asks nonetheless.

"Hardly," Simon says. "This is already the best we got out of them. Maybe we could get them to 16 percent royalties. But they might want to tie you down for another album then."

"I see," Harry says. 

"It's in your best interest to keep this contract as short as possible," Simon explains. "You'll get to re-negotiate in a few years. When you're into a better position. We're pretty vulnerable right now and to most of the labels out there? You pose a risk." 

"I know that," Harry says in defeat. Why on earth did he insist on a coming out during such a critical time? All those weeks ago he knew he wouldn't want to make another album without being able to be who is is publicly as well as privately. That he couldn't make another album and go through another promotion period with publicity stunts and fake relationships or hook-ups. He was tired of it. Sick of it. 

"We'll prove them wrong," Xander says quietly. "They'll come around," he adds, barely audible. "You're not a risk."

"I knew it was going to be difficult," Harry admits to Simon. "But I didn't think it was going to be this bad."

"It looks worse than it is," Simon assures him. "No one could have predicted a multi-million dollar label to be this petty," Simon says dryly, but it make Harry snort. 

Simon reaches across the sofa table of Harry's hotel room to put a hand on his shoulder. "It's a good contract. Let them sort this mess out for us, while we concentrate on the positive things. On your future."

Harry nods. He knows that Simon is right. He still feels as if he's selling himself short. "I should sleep on it right?" he asks.

"Take your time. I'll let them know once you decide. And then we set it all up," Simon says.

 

* * *

 

Sleep is rare, of course. Especially with a label out to kill your reputation on the other side of the world. Xander wakes him minutes after the article surfaces with a phone call in the middle of the night. 

"Sorry to wake you," he says after Harry picks up. His voice his soft and he sounds like he really means it. It's their forth night in the hotel which makes it a lot easier for Harry to fall asleep as he's surrounded by a familiar setting. But he still sleeps lightly and wakes every few hours without any specific reason. 

"It's fine," Harry says automatically. Only after the words have already left his lips he notices just how insincere they sound. "Uh," Harry clears his throat. "I think I might actually miss these middle-of-the-night-crisis meetings with you once this is over." He shouldn't say these things. Shouldn't admit them. But it is long after midnight and Harry is too fucked up to put a filter all over his 3 a.m. thoughts. 

"If you need time to transition, I could probably make a habit out of waking you at random hours during the night. Once you're back in London, timezones will actually work in my favor," Xander says, humoring him for a moment. It makes Harry's heart ache. 

"Only if you got more of these suspenseful articles to read to me."

"I might be able to dig up some fanfiction."

"Please tell me you haven't read any?" Harry pleads. 

"It's not like I did it for fun," Xander says. "It was research." 

"Sure," Harry mocks. "Are you one of those guys?"

"What guys?"

"The I-like-guy-on-guy-porn-but-no-gay-porn-guys?"

"Hey, I haven't read those," Xander says offended before he adds, "-yet." And laughs. "It was all very cute. Did you know that there are already some stories out there written about us?"

"I'm telling you now," Harry says. "You enjoy this too much. Next thing you know, my label will try to ruin your reputation too."

"I don't give a damn-," Xander starts singing. 

"Don't!" Harry stops him. "It's too early for this."

"Sorry," Xander says and Harry is pretty sure he can hear him grinning. 

"No, you're not." 

"I am!" Xander insists. And while he says the next words his voice completely changes. From playful to worried. From mocking to caring. "I'm sorry they put you through this." 

"How bad is it?" 

"It's embarrassing," Xander says. "Not for you. But for everyone involved. It's pathetic."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asks, blinking into the darkness. Suddenly he misses the passing lights from the road, reminding him that they're moving and that the world around him is alive. 

"Do you want me to send it to you or do you want me to read?"

"I'm used to hearing nonsense out of your mouth so-," Harry says, smirking to himself.

"Got it," Xander says and Harry can hear a bit of rustling in the background. "Just gonna get my laptop." Hearing the sounds of the moving sheets and the faint squeak of box springs makes Harry wish he was there. With Xander. Sleep warm and heavy-lidded, with lips brushing against naked skin and gentle fingers tangled up in tousled hair, floating through the haze between lingering dreams and the cruel call of reality. Instead of Xander's hands, it's only his voice touching Harry through the phone now.

"You ready for this?" he asks.

"Do I have a choice?" 

"I could just handle this by myself."

"No," Harry says immediately. Maybe a little too fast. "Not because I don't trust you," he adds quickly. "I just-. It's because-," he stumbles over the words. 

"I get it," Xander says quietly. "I'd rather not deal with this alone either."

Harry rubs the back of his hand over his brows and frowns. 

"Isn't that your job though?" he asks and wishes he could just slap himself for it.

"My job is pretty fascinating to you, isn't it?"

"Can you blame me?" Harry asks back. "Since my life seems to depend on it."

"Don't be over-dramatic," Xander tells him. "Do you want me to do my job and handle this alone?"

"We're in this together, right?" 

"Until you threaten to sue me again?" Xander teases.

"Even then we'll be together in court," Harry argues. 

"It's a date," Xander says casually and Harry has to bury his face in his pillow.

"Don't get cocky," Harry mumbles against the cushion. 

"Get?" Xander asks. "Pretty sure I already a-,"

"Oh my god," Harry groans. "Just read it, okay? I promise I won't sue you and I won't get all up in your business anymore."

"Too bad," Xander says and moves on to the article before Harry has a chance to wrap his head around that comment. "Harry Styles: Fall Out, Burn Out, Drop Out. - Shocking Exclusive Reveals: Popstar and Label Part Ways After Styles Refuses Cooperation."

Harry's chest tightens and his eyes sting with tears as Xander goes on.

"After weeks of pursuing a troublesome lifestyle and some questionable choices it seems as if the Happily-Singer has eventually hit rock bottom. 'We saw it coming, but there was no way to stop it,' our source reveals. 'He didn't want any help or advice. It was hard to watch him ruin himself like this.' Everything looked promising just a few weeks ago when Styles resumed his world tour in North America while his album was ready to drop. But things went downhill fast. The heartthrob struggled with stress, depression and insomnia which eventually had him turned to drugs and alcohol for relief. Sources close to the star tell us exclusively, it wasn't the touring schedule that had him on his knees, but a broken heart. 'His best mate started dating his ex just two months ago. He didn't take it well,' we are told. Apparently, Harry tried to put on a friendly facade but it was all for show. Behind the scenes he lashed out against his old friend and even drunk dialed his ex a couple of times. 'She's fed up with it. He keeps harassing her,' our source reveals. 'Harry keeps begging her to come back to him. But she's moved on. She wants to be left alone.' Styles was then seen to entertain a whole posse of ladies for several weeks during his tour, sleeping with multiple girls at once."

Breathing feels like being in a 160 degree sauna but Harry knows he's still in his hotel room and the air around him hasn't changed. Everything else has though. Harry swallows hard, his fingers are shaking but he keeps his phone pressed against his ear. Xander's voice anchors him while the words he speaks hurt like lying in a field of thousand needles. 

"The label has been concerned with Styles' ability to continue his tour. After several heavy arguments, during which the singer became obnoxious as well as verbally abusive, negotiations about a renewal of his million-dollar record deal have been abandoned and the label has decided to drop the singer after five years. 'He hasn't shown any interest in getting his life back together. He has become a liability,' an insider tells us exclusively. 'The label was disappointed with him, but they were offering him a new contract if he were to complete treatment for his addictions and stress related illnesses. He refused. Instead he made delusional demands regarding his payments. It's tragic, but it was Style's own choice. He single-handedly ruined his own career.' Harry's fans will be devastated to hear these news. We hope the singer will get the help he needs." Xander takes a few deep breaths himself after finishing the whole article. "Wow," he says finally. "That's a lot to take in."

"It's a nightmare," Harry tries to say but his voice breaks half way turning the last syllable into a sob. "It's-," he tries again, but he can't get the words out. 

"I'm coming over, okay?" Xander says and Harry nods, because he wants to say yes, but he can't. He just can't and Xander can't see him either. "I'm coming over," Xander just says, seemingly getting an idea of the whole situation and hangs up.

It's not even a minute later when Xander knocks on Harry's hotel room door. As usually, they're all occupying the same floor.

Harry tries to pull himself together, but when he opens the door all his pain rushes over him. 

 

* * *

 

He's slept next to Xander. He's lived with him for almost ten weeks now. He has held his hand and had his faces smushed against his back and chest. But he has never been hugged like this. Not by Xander and not by anyone. 

As soon as Harry cracks the door open, Xander pushes through, tips the door back so it falls shut and pulls Harry in while simultaneously pressing him back, those few steps, until Harry's back meets the wall. One of Xander's palms is splayed between Harry's shoulder blades and the other on the small of his back. He's got a foot in between Harry's and his face buried in Harry's neck. 

Xander's whole body is radiating warmth through the long-sleeve he's wearing. His sweatpants hang low off his hips and he's barefoot just like Harry. Harry's only wearing a t-shirt and he can see the hairs on his arm standing up from where he's got his chin hooked over Xander's shoulder. His vision is blurry though, from the tears and he knows his eyes are red and swollen. 

"It's okay," Xander says, lips dragging over the skin above the collar of Harry's shirt. "It's okay," he says again. 

Harry clings to Xander, fists his shirt until his knuckles go white. His chest is still trembling and shuddering from the uneven breathing, his nose feels thick with snot and his throat feels tight and sore. Harry hasn't cried like this in years. He's whining, sobbing uncontrollable, his mouth falling open, spit dribbling down his chin soaking the fabric of Xander's shirt. Sobs like coughs shake his body as they fall out from between his lips, hurried and forceful as they chase each other through Harry's throat. 

"Shh," Xander tries to calm him. "Hey," he whispers, a quiet opposition of clear words against Harry's thunder of cries. "I'm here," Xander says and Harry clings to him harder, just to make sure that his words are true. 

Xander pushes forward, pressing Harry back gently, steadying him against the wall. Xander's hands are trapped behind Harry and his forehead almost touches the wall too as Harry allows his knees a moment of weakness, knowing that Xander will keep him from collapsing. 

"I got you," Xander tells him, still keeping his voice low. "I got you. We got this."

They stay like this. Minute after minute, until Harry has run out of tears and his sobs and whines die down, until he shakily yawns against the wet patch on Xander's shoulder. 

"They didn't fire me," Harry croaks out, his voice his rasp and raw, barely recognizable to himself. It's his last act of defiance, to speak the truth. Out loud. Even though he and Xander both knew it before. "I'm not that person," he adds even though every word hurts in his aching throat.

"I know," Xander says, still holding onto Harry. "I know."

"At least they didn't out me," Harry says, letting his thoughts run free. 

Xander chuckles, mouth still pressed against Harry's skin. "They still fucked you over pretty bad," he mumbles. 

"But they didn't take that from me," Harry says quietly, mostly to reassure himself. "From us."

Xander tightens his hold on Harry for a second. "I'm gonna put you to be bed, okay? Let me put you to bed?"

Harry doesn't say anything but finally unclenches his fingers. They feel stiff and tense as the fabric of Xander's shirt slides through them as it falls back around Xander's waist. 

Xander loosens his grip in return and steps back, just a few inches to see if Harry is fit to stand. 

He manages. 

And Xander slowly guides him to the bed where he helps Harry climb under the sheets. 

"Stay?" Harry asks, forcing his eyes to stay open until he sees Xander nodding. 

As the mattress dips behind him and Xander crawls under the blanket, Harry falls asleep. 

And he sleeps. 

And sleeps. 

 

* * *

 

 "Harry?" 

The dull sound of Xander's voice resonates in the depths of Harry's dreamless sleep, but he can't pull himself out of it yet. 

"Harry?" Xander calls again. His voice breathy and rasp, he probably just woke up not too long ago. Harry's leg twitches and he stirs a little. "Harry," Xander says for the third time and brushes some loose strands of Harry's hair out of his face. It feels oddly comforting and way too intimate for Harry to know if he should react to it. His mind still feels clouded from the fast sleep, a thing he hasn't experienced in weeks. "There's someone at the door," Xander says quietly as he tucks those strands behind Harry's ear. As if on cue, there's another series of knocks against the door. "You should probably get it," Xander says, retreating his hand into the general area of his own personal space. 

"Yeah," Harry croaks before he cracks his eyes open. His voice is a mess and his throat still feels swollen and sore. 

Harry blinks a few time, registering their position, both lying on their sides, facing each other. Harry's got one hand under his pillow that feels like it's not part of his body anymore and the other one's reaching out between them, fingertips almost touching the folds of Xander's shirt that falls from his waist to the mattress. Xander is propped up on one elbow, watching Harry with slightly puffed eyes as if he'd been the one crying. The hand that's just been caressing Harry's face scrapes along Xander's stubble before it runs along Xander's neck and the back of his head. 

"Did you sleep okay?" Harry asks, blocking out the person on the other side of the door. "I was knocked out," he says. "Did I kick you?"

"No." Xander gives him a small smile. "Don't worry about it."

There's more knocking, so Harry pulls himself out of it and forces himself to get up. "Mm coming," he mumbles. 

Xander gets up too, and settles down on the small canapé sofa by the window. It's an attempt to make it look as if he has not been sleeping in Harry's bed, though Harry knows there's no way to hide that fact. It's not like Xander came over with a set of clothes to change into in the morning and Harry's still wearing his pajama bottoms too. When he reaches the door, he throws a look back at Xander, contemplating to change first, to tell Xander to hide in the bathroom, or to give him something fresh to wear. 

But as he lays eyes on Xander again, Harry knows it's no use. His hair looks ridiculous, tousled and fluffy, his eyes are sleep-glazed and still seem a little unfocused and Harry knows, he himself doesn't look any better. His curls are a mess, his voice is throaty and circulation in his left arm only starts to kick in now. 

Their eyes meet and Xander shrugs ever so slightly.

"Does it matter now?" he asks. And it takes Harry a moment to figure out what he means. "With three weeks left?"

Either Xander knows how to read Harry's thought process by now, or it had been obvious by the way Harry had looked at him. Or maybe they were just thinking alike by now. Xander was right. Harry will be out in less than a month and even though he was never to confirm a "relationship" with Xander, speculation was still focused on the two of them and Harry was to consciously leave everyone open to the idea that he had indeed dated Xander, so that Xander's friends could buy the story of a break-up. It didn't matter anymore. If anyone would assume they would be sleeping together by now, it would just be another drop in the bucket.  

So Harry nods and turns to see if he can get away with talking to their interruption by leaving the door ajar.

But when Harry cracks the door open and sees who it is, he attempts to slam the door shut back immediately. 

It takes him a heartbeat too long though, because Jeff hits the door with his palm, pressing against it, first just with a hand then with his shoulder, and forces to the door back open. 

"I want to apolo-," he starts as Harry stumbles back and Jeff tumbles into the room as the door flips back. He's startled as soon he sees Xander in the back of the room who had jumped to his feet the second Harry had shown distress. The whole room freezes for a second or two, with Jeff and Xander staring at each other while Harry stares at his feet.

"I want to apologize," Jeff says still eyeing up Xander for another moment before he flicks his gaze to Harry. "I didn't know, okay? I didn't know they would go as far."

"You're kidding me, right?" Harry spits back. "As if you haven't been happily spreading lies about me for weeks or been snooping around for information to hurt me."

Jeff still looks awfully confused but he visibly tries to pull him back together as best as possible. 

"I wasn't told what was going to happen," Jeff says defensively. 

"What did you think was going to happen?" Harry asks angrily, his voice still screechy. "Did you really think any of your little stories were manufactured for my benefit?"

Jeff sighs, seemingly helpless even though he was the one to seek out this conversation. 

"What _did_ they tell you what was going to happen?" Xander ask. He's more calm than Harry but there's a bit of contempt in his voice that would have amused Harry more if he weren't so angry. 

"At first they said they wanted to cause a little panic. To raise ticket sales. They said they wanted the fans to believe it could be your last tour," Jeff says. 

"And that's how you came up with the burn-out?" Harry asks. 

"I knew you weren't sleeping that well," Jeff explains. "We had a bad show in Utah. It was just convenient." 

"What about the pap that photographed us when we were shopping?" Xander asks. 

"I called them," Jeff admits. "Ben's party was the night before. You were hungover and Harry had been sleep-deprived for days," Jeff says to Xander but then turns back to Harry. "You were supposed to look exhausted, the fact that you actually had a car come pick you up was just luck, I guess."

Harry huffs sarcastically. "Did you call the paps on me and the lightning crew when we went out for lunch?"

Jeff nods. 

"Why the drugs? Why the girls? Why did you have to stoop so low?" Harry asks and sinks down on the edge of his bed. Does any of it even matter anymore?

"The burn-out story," Xander says quietly. "It didn't work did it? No one bought it." 

Harry looks up at Jeff, his face giving confirmation to what Xander had just said. Harry grins, even though he would have slapped Xander in any other situation. That smug bastard needed affirmation that he was good at his job. Even when he was going up alone against one of the top world-wide operating music labels. But now, facing Jeff, Harry feels nothing but pride. 

"We fought back. So they told you to try harder?" Harry digs.

"I told them to dig up the weed video," Jeff continues. "You know what goes down in one of the buses. The band, the backline crew, the sound crew. Hardly a night when they don't get high. I told the label there'd be plenty of material, if they'd choose to go down that road. I was still working under the assumption that this was to boost ticket sales. Who isn't smoking weed these days? It's not like you had to fear any severe repercussions."

"Yeah, right," Harry sighs. "Bullshit. Why bring the girls into it? They're your goddamn coworkers and you sold them as sex-objects for a fucking fake exclusive." 

Jeff shifts uncomfortably, glances at Xander and avoids Harry's eyes altogether. 

"What is it? What did they tell you?" Xander asks, still calm and steady as a rock. It must be one of those skills you learn when you work in PR. Making yourself seem trustworthy. Xander knows how to work his body and voice. Harry had noticed months ago, sitting on Xander's couch of horror, back in his office in NYC, just how well Xander was trained in body language and non-verbal communication. Watching it now Harry is more fascinated than annoyed with it. "You know now it was to make him look awful and to ruin his image past their contract. What lie did they tell you?"

"They were concerned with Harry acting," Jeff keeps his eyes on Xander, not daring to look over at Harry who's still sitting on his bed. "A little too gay," Jeff says eventually. "They said I should give them pictures with you and the crew to fight those rumors,"Jeff goes on and blushes as he talks to Xander. "I told them you were straight and there was nothing to worry about." Seeing Xander here, unexpectedly, must have genuinely thrown him off. "They still pressured me to get the pictures. I didn't know they would use them to turn you into a sleazebag. I thought this would be in your interest," Jeff says and then adds: "At the time."

Harry actually laughs at that. All this time he was so afraid of being forcefully outed, but he sees now that his label had no clue about what was going on. They were so focused on their own story that they only countered Harry's stunts with Xander as a mean to further their own humiliating campaign. 

"And after the exclusive about the girls?" Xander asks.

"They didn't ask for anything else. I thought it was done. That they got what they wanted," Jeff says. "I had no idea they were working on that piece of shit article that just came out. I swear!" Jeff insists. When Harry and Xander remain silent, he tries one more time. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

Xander takes a few steps towards Jeff. His movements catch Harry's attention. He looks up to meet Xander's gaze. His expression, the one Harry knows best and hates the most - self-congratulating victory written all over his face. Harry frowns, not getting where Xander's thoughts already took him. 

"Maybe we could get Simon here?" Xander suggests. "Meet with him. And see where we go from here."

"I want to help," Jeff says firmly. "You might be prohibited from talking about the label's tactics, but I can."

"They're going to fire you. They are going to sue you," Harry replies, not really paying attention to Jeff's need for redemption. 

"They might threaten to sue you, but they won't sue their boss' son."

"You want to threaten your relationship with your father over an article villainizing me?" Harry asks in disbelief. 

"Yeah, he built an empire but I did this," Jeff says, gesturing around the room. Harry looks at Xander who just shrugs. "The tour, I mean," Jeff clarifies. "I am proud of this, because I worked on it. And I want to do it again. For you. I wanna keep this job and be _your_ tour manager. I'll do whatever it takes."

Harry takes a deep breath, processing the information. 

"Let's take a break, okay?" Xander interrupts. "And meet again in an hour or two. I'll talk to Simon," Xander says. "Let's see what we can do then."

Jeff is confused yet again at the sudden change of situation, - so is Harry- but he nods nonetheless and leaves quietly after a beat of awkward silence.

"Can we get him on board?" Harry asks after Jeff is gone, before realizing once more that Xander is not part of his team. That he will in fact leave the ship in three weeks. 

Harry shakes his head, not expecting Xander to give him an answer.

"If he's ready to do what he said," Xander says nonetheless. When Harry looks up at him, he notices that his expression hasn't changed at all. In fact it just might have gotten even more cocksure than it already was. 

"What are you so smug about?" Harry asks. 

"Don't you think it's funny how they dug up a story we shut down months ago?"

"They're under the same label. Why not give them some promo while kicking me on the curb," Harry speculates. 

"Your label might have turned a blind eye on what we were doing, deliberately or not, while trying to force their own narrative, but I don't think everyone else is this stupid. And that means we're doing an excellent job."

"What are you hinting at?"

"I think they noticed. Your exes? I think they noticed and they are panicking. They're under the same label. Their teams got wind of how you were to be trashed and they thought it was a good idea to jump in on the shitfest," Xander tells him and sits down next to him on the bed.

"How would it benefit them to be associated with me again, mere weeks before my coming out?" Harry asks. "That was what we were trying to prevent, wasn't it? To drag someone else in it? Or out, rather."

"There will always be that one "journalist" ", Xander says, doing quotation marks with his fingers, "who will ask them about you anyway. They might seek to play the victims. Saying you lied to them all the time. Betrayed them. Her."

"Why are you so happy about it then?" Harry asks.

"If they're panicking, that means they're vulnerable," Xander says. "I think it's time for us to approach them and suggest a strategy that would benefit all of us."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Allow them to say you told them. Let them say they knew. People will think you weren't ready yet. Or Scared. Or still on your way to figure it out." Xander puts his hand low on Harry's back. Personal boundaries have shifted between them. 

"What's in it for us?" Harry asks.

Xander grins at him. "Business man Harry is back," he laughs. "I like it."

"So?" Harry can't help but smile.

"We ask them for mutual promo and to give you a few positive shout-outs. Mend the mess they produced today with that article. It's their label still, they won't be able to retract, but there sure is a way of implying it was exaggerated.  

"Isn't it a little risky to show our cards to someone else? And a whole other management team at that?" Harry wonders.

"Not if you got your NDAs ready," Xander says, eyebrows raised a smile still playing along his lips. 

"You're a terrible influence," Harry says.

"You were always more business than me, Harry," Xander almost whispers. "I just didn't notice."

 

* * *

 

They call Simon first. He's already seen the article and had been on the phone with London all morning, coordinating interview requests and official statements with their team who had been handling journalists and magazines calling in since the article was released. They tell him about Jeff. And about the possible approach. Harry asks Simon to come over then, as he has made a decision about his future label. 

"I don't want to sign with one of the Big Three," he says about half an hour later. He's showered and dressed, just like Xander who had sneaked off into his own room until returning shortly before Simon. "When this is over, after the coming out, we're gonna sit down with those two indie labels and see what they have to offer. I will not sign myself over to one of those corporate monster machines again."

"Harry -," Simon sighs. 

"No, I know what you're going to say. That it's insane. And it probably is. We're too big for an indie label, I get it. But they made an offer. They think they can handle it. Let's hear them out," Harry insists.

"They want your name under their own," Simon says. "It doesn't mean they can handle the situation. Especially now. We have the repercussions of the label scandal to deal with and soon you can add the aftermath of your coming out to it. Not saying it's going to be bad, just saying it's a lot of work. London's been swamped since this morning. To be frank, I was counting on using negotiations with the new label as proof that allegations made were untrue. If you decide against it, and choose to postpone negotiations until after the tour, we're left pretty much empty handed. We cannot badmouth the label. They made sure of it by putting that clause in your contract. All we can do is, issue a denial while confirming that you won't re-sign. It's not going to make you look any better though."

"I'll come up with something," Xander says and it makes Harry feel three inches taller. 

"We always have, Simon," Harry reminds him. "We have been doing this on our own for months now. The label had to pull all these measures, because we were doing such a good job battling them. You, Xander, the team in London, we did it all by ourselves. And the tour? It's like you said. We only had one person that was sent here by the label. And that person wants to be on our side now. We planned the tour and those are our people out there, working their asses off so that we can deliver show after show after show. We are already doing this on our own. What exactly did the label do besides making millions by selling my name to papers and my face on lunch boxes and jewelry? We can do this on our own. Maybe I have to chip in some money and forgo an advance. Maybe we have to go for a lower number of copies for the next album," he says desperately. "But no one buys CDs anymore anyway. We just have to be creative."

Simon looks at him while he contemplates what Harry had just said.

"Unless," Harry starts again, suddenly insecure. "Unless you don't want to anymore. Work for me. With me."

"I have been one hundred percent committed to you and your career from day one. Nothing has changed," Simon assures him.

Harry sighs in relief and slumps down on the armrest of the armchair Xander's sitting in. 

"But we would have to stock up," Simon says. "Not just Jeff for the tour. We need someone to help with publishing. We need a few people to establish and maintain connections to music magazines and outlets apart from staying friendly with tabloids. We need someone for merchandise since you don't approve of the lunch boxes. And we need to consider moving our team from London to the States. You can't have a local label here and your PR across the Atlantic."

Simon smiles at Harry who drops his head in his hands, tearing up again, but this time not out of despair but gratitude and hope. Xander encouragingly tugs on the wrinkled fabric of Harry's jeans behind his knee with two fingers, a gesture hidden from Simon behind Harry's dangling legs.

 

* * *

  

They get Jeff on board, the same day without hesitation and things are finally starting to look up. Xander doesn't leave Harry's side and it's early in the evening when Julia puts Harry on vocal rest for at least twenty-four hours, noticing his sore throat and scratchy voice, insisting his vocal chords need time to recover before the concert in Miami. 

They watch TV and Xander orders them dinner over room service. They don't talk, for obvious reasons, even though Xander gets a little too involved in the movie and starts yelling at the characters to get their shit together half way through. He falls asleep though, on Harry's hotel bed even before the couple gets back together in the end. Harry watches the montage at the end of the film that flashes forward through the couple's life before he turns the TV off for good and crawls under the covers next to Xander. Yes, he could shake him awake but Harry recalls Xander's words from earlier in his mind.

Does it matter now?

 

* * *

 

They leave for Miami after breakfast on Thursday morning with Harry still on vocal rest. They could have driven over night, but since the concert is only on Saturday, Harry wouldn't want to pass on the opportunity to let everyone including himself get another good night sleep in a real bed. When Harry had woken up, Xander was already gone, but he didn't seem fazed by the fact that he had spend two nights in a row in Harry's bed when they get on the bus together about an hour later. Instead, he forces Harry to re-watch the entire movie, since he'd missed the last fifteen minutes the night before. 

They end up watching two more movies until their first break. The drivers need some rest and the crew takes the opportunity to get grab a bite at the highway fast food restaurant. Since they can't use electronics when they're not on the road, Harry sticks to songwriting while Xander reads the second Harry Potter book he's borrowed from Zayn.

Five hours later, when the buses start moving again, they play video games before crawling in their bunks to get some sleep. The familiarity of his bunk and the noises around him help Harry fall asleep. He wakes up three hours later nonetheless and joins James in the front, even though they can't talk. Harry is content to just listening to whatever goes through James' mind. 

When it's time for James and the other drivers to take their second break it's four in the morning and Harry gives sleep another try too. 

Around eight in the morning on Friday, shortly before they hit the road for the last five or six hours until they'll arrive in Miami, Julia and Caroline join Harry and Xander on his bus, - Harry is convinced it's to make sure he's sticking to his vocal rest -, to hang out and go over setlist and outfit changes. In the end Harry gets his hair braided too and both him and Xander end up with with painted toe nails. 

When they arrive at the venue, everyone swamps out immediately to stretch their muscles, get a bit of afternoon sun and/or get to work. 

Harry and Julia start to carefully work on his vocals. Even though Harry was on vocal rest, the air conditioning and subsequently dry air in the bus have been additional stressors to his throat. 

On Saturday, he's good to go though and everyone, including Harry, is especially hyped because they are having their traditional end-of-tour-party after the concert that night. They'll still have two gigs left after Florida, but no one wants to party in Richmond if they could go out in Miami instead. 

Their last gig is in New York and even though Harry would have loved to have the party there, he knows that everyone will be dying to get home as soon and sober as possible after the show. He himself as a flight booked for the day after, and some of the crew members, especially those with family and kids waiting at home, will leave as early as all the equipment is packed up and ready to be returned, shipped or stored. 

 

* * *

 

The concert goes well, thanks to Julia who had practiced some voice-protecting techniques with him throughout the day and they had changed a few of the tones to go gentle on his vocal chords. They head to a local club later that night in which Simon had booked the VIP-area for all of them. 

Harry has in first drink in weeks and lets himself be pulled into the bubble of celebration. After all, even most of his struggles will be coming to end after the tour. He has shots with Ben and Lou, watches Niall and Ellie slow dance together while Jeff awkwardly hovers around Glenne and Perrie who bought party hats for the whole entourage. He lets himself be picked up by James and carried around half the dance floor while Zayn and Paddy show off a dance choreography they desperately want to teach the whole crew. Eleanor and Sophia humor them for a while, but Harry figures it's only so that they can get a better look at Paddy's bum. Liam spends most of his time chatting up the DJ. Hanging off of James' shoulder Harry catches a glimpse of Xander, Cal, Alan and Luke, the double-decker drivers, hanging out at the bar with Alberto, his head of venue security and back up for Paddy, while the backline crew and sound crew head out for 'a smoke'. 

The kitchen crew had promised everyone a Full Irish Breakfast before they have to leave late in the afternoon for Virginia, but judging by their current state of intoxication, Harry doubts it's going to happen Unless their driver knows how to cook. 

After another two hours spent dancing and drinking, after half of the business bus has already left, Harry leans against the bar sipping his water while Xander and Paddy talk about life as a cat person. 

Harry mumbles to himself while playing with his blue striped straw. "I live for you, I long for you, Olivia," he sings to himself and then grins up at Xander. 

"Are you making fun of my cat?" Xander asks, but his eyes are gentle, as they have always been lately. 

"I would never," Harry says, putting a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. "I love Olivia. I wanna meet her." He sways a bit as he talks and it takes him a second longer than usual to focus on Xander's smile. "I think, I'm gonna get some fresh air," Harry announces, putting his empty glass on the bar. He's keeping the straw though. 

"Don't take the front," Paddy says. "I'll come with you."

"It's fine," Harry says. "I'm fine."

"I'll go with him," Xander says. "It's your night off. We'll be fine."

"With a boss like him, you're never really off," Paddy jokes. "I worry about him all the time."

"And I worry about you," Harry interrupts them and puts his arm around Paddy's much broader frame. 

"Don't let him trip," Paddy says to Xander who leaves his empty beer bottle at the bar too. 

"I won't," Xander assures him as he puts his hands on Harry's shoulder to guide him to the back entrance. 

"You have small hands, you know," Harry calls over his shoulder as they make their way through the club. "Not small small, but smaller than mine."

"Is that so?" Xander asks and presses closer against Harry from behind.

"It's weird 'cause you're taller," Harry rambles on. "You have smaller feet too."

Xander laughs and puts his forehead against Harry's neck for a second. 

When they reach the back entrance, Harry pushes the door open and closes his eyes as the cool air hits his face. His shirt is damp from the sweat and so is his hair and neck. The entrance leads into a small backyard terrace. It's empty. 

Harry leans against the wall next to the door and takes a few deep breaths. 

"Did you have fun?" Harry asks, after he watched Xander shifting next to him from one foot to the other.

"Yeah," Xander says, looking up from his shoes. "Was a good party."

"I mean the tour," Harry clarifies. "I'm sorry, I meant the tour. It's been nine weeks. Some would say that's a long time."

"It's been quite a journey." Xander says. He buries his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Not even a whole week 'til we're done.You ready to get back home?" Harry asks. 

"Yeah, I guess," Xander contemplates. "I don't know. I can't really imagine myself getting back to how things were before."

"The position as my crisis manager is still open," Harry says. He keeps his eyes on Xander, too drunk and tired to be ashamed of wanting him around.

Xander laughs at that. "I thought you never wanted to see me ever again after we're done?"

"You know things have changed," Harry says carefully. Waiting Xander out for a bit before he quietly adds: "Right? You know?"

Xander nods, pulls one hand free to run it through his hair. "Of course, I know."

"It's just-," Harry starts. "You're doing a good job and I want you around, you know? I like having you around."

"Harry," Xander breathes, with a pained expression. "It's not that easy."

"I get it," Harry says. "I get it. It was business. And you already have a job."

In one swift motion, Xander has Harry bracketed between himself and the wall, with one hand against the bricks and the other on the side of Harry's neck, his thumb brushing against Harry's earlobe. 

"That's really not it," Xander whispers, but even then it comes out shaky and a little off-key. 

Harry puts his hands on the seams around the pockets of Xander's jeans, pulling him closer. 

"Do you still hate me?" Xander asks, lips grazing against Harry's temple. 

"I will always hate you the most," Harry says and tilts his head up to make up for that one inch separating them in height. 

Xander kisses the way he does everything, painfully accurate and on point. His lips are soft but he knows what he's doing as he presses them against Harry's, demanding and challenging but as soon as Harry kisses back, he yields and opens them to let Harry slip his tongue in between. Xander tastes like beer and he smells of stale club air, sweat and his cologne but Harry pulls him in even further, brushing his tongue with his own and keeps his lips on Xander's, relishing in their gentle touch and unfamiliar warmth.

It's not the flashlight that pulls Harry out of it, but the sound of the shutter that has him breaking the kiss in an instant, shoving against Xander, to run off after the asshole who just took their picture. 

"Hey," Harry calls out, as the pap tries to make his way back through a small alley that connects the back entrance with the storage place of the club. 

Harry's not fast enough, but Xander's reflexes are off the roof. He takes about five pointed steps before he catches the guy by his jacket. 

"Let me go!" The guy tries to fight Xander off, but his attempts are useless as soon as Harry grabs him by the collar, ready to throw a punch. 

"You have no business being here," Harry says, trying to sound a little threatening. 

"It's a club man," the pap says. "Can't forbid me from having a good time."

"You weren't in the club," Xander says, stating the obvious. "You were snooping around, climbing over fences of private property."

"You can't prove that," the guys says and Harry is close to losing his patience. 

"I don't give a fuck," he says. "I want you to delete the picture you just took."

"I wasn't doing anything wrong. You shouldn't make out all in the open if you don't want to be seen."

"Delete the picture," Xander demands. 

"If you want it, you have to buy it," the guy says nonchalantly.

"Watch out what you're saying or I'll break your camera and your arm," Xander says and tugs on where he's holding the guy by his elbow.

"And I'll be living happily ever after from the lawsuit that will follow." The pap puts on a fake grin.

"How much?" Harry asks.

"Thousand bucks."

"Oh, come on," Harry groans. "I'll give you-," he pulls out a money clip from the back of his jeans and counts the bills. "I have seven hundred," Harry says, and doesn't miss the way Xander's eyes go wide at the amount of cash Harry had been carrying all night, considering that he already spent over a hundred bucks on extra drinks for his crew. 

"It's an exclusive, man," the pap says, but Harry's not here to negotiate. 

"Listen," he says firmly, but keeps his voice low. "You can take the seven hundred now and leave. And I'll let it slide that you were crouching behind the dumpsters of a private club. Or you can refuse, I'll get security and make sure to walk out the front immediately, repeating the little action you just witness and make sure your fucking exclusive is ruined before you can even call your agency or get home to upload that picture." Next to Harry, Xander doesn't flinch for which Harry is eternally grateful because they can't afford for their bluff to be brittle. "What do you prefer?" Harry asks. 

There's a beat of silence before the pap nods eventually. "Fine, I'll delete it for the seven."

Xander eases his grip on the guy so he can pull up his camera. Harry steps closer to watch him delete the photo with his own eyes while holding out the money. After Harry double checks that the picture is gone, he lets the guy grab the money and retreat into the back alley to disappear into wherever he came from. 

"Was that really necessary?" Xander asks. "Paying him off?"

"I don't care," Harry says. "It's done. Let's go back inside and forget this ever happened."

 

* * *

 

Of course forgetting is easier said than done. Because, while forgetting about the pap incident would be nice, forgetting about the kiss is simply impossible. They go back inside, they have a few more drinks, joke around with the others, but Harry can't shake the ghost of Xander's lips on his own or his body against his chest. 

They share a car with Paddy, James and Julia back to the buses where they part ways. James spends the night on the business bus, while Harry and Xander climb into their own. 

Being alone with each other after what had happened makes Harry feel awkward and nervous and he doesn't know what do with his hands. Or arms. Or himself. 

He's completely perplexed as Xander pulls him into a hug before Harry can climb into his bunk or hide in the tiny bathroom. 

"Don't leave me alone with this, okay?" Xandere whispers into Harry's hair, who's still startled but manages to at least nod and then pulls himself out of it to wrap his arms around Xander in return. 

It's the first time they spend together sleeping in Xander's bed, or bunk, with Harry squeezing himself behind Xander into the small space. Harry doesn't know much about PR, he doesn't know all about the industry and despite what has been said, he's not a business person by nature. But he knows about this. About doubt and fear and uncertainty, and unknown feelings and overwhelming thoughts. So this time, he holds Xander close and every now and then brushes a finger along his forehead to soothe the panic and to scare off all worries that try to settle in Xander's mind. 

He holds him until he's fallen asleep and long after. 

 

* * *

 

It's after dawn when Harry slips out of Xander's bunk to get some sleep in his own. The shoulder he's been lying on has been aching for the past hour and his muscles feel heavy and hard from being dehydrated and forced into a relatively uncomfortable position. Harry pads through the bus to get himself a water bottle. Xander doesn't stir. 

He hasn't had more drinks than Harry, but Harry figures it's the body's natural coping mechanism to shut down in times of internal crisis. Which might just be what is happening. Compared to the helplessness Harry had felt in the past weeks while coming to term with his own feelings, Harry wonders just how bad it had been for Xander. He hadn't noticed anything. At all. Maybe he had been too occupied with himself. Maybe Xander had been right when he'd said that Harry tends to be too focused on his own and not see what was actually going on around him. Maybe Xander is too good of an actor to let anyone see that he's vulnerable. 

After gulping down the entire bottle, Harry get into his bunk to get some more rest.

When he wakes up a few hours later, Xander is curled up around him, breathing soundly against his neck with one arm hooked around Harry's waist. Harry doesn't know for how long Xander has been sleeping next to him, no idea when he'd noticed that Harry was gone and crawled into the bunk across from his own to be close to him again. Gently, Harry pulls him a little closer and closes his eyes once more.  

There's hardly anything worse than being hung-over and having to be on a bus for almost sixteen hours. Surprisingly, the kitchen crew does come through and provides breakfast, or rather lunch, for everyone and they had even prepared hangover-survivor-packs for the drive for everyone the day before. They hit the road about an hour earlier than expected, all thanks to the drivers and their self discipline, as all three of them had stayed mostly sober even though they'd been partying with everyone else until the early hours. 

They'd gotten up sometime around noon, mingling with everyone else, but had crawled back into Harry's bunk as soon as the buses started their drive to Richmond. Harry wonders if he should keep James some company, but he doesn't want to move. Ever again. Instead he wants to lie here forever. They haven't talked much, him and Xander. They've barely made eye contact, but they have stayed close nonetheless, not leaving each other's side really, and had squeezed themselves back into the bunk as soon as they had a chance to be alone, chest to chest, breathing in each other's proximity. 

When Harry decides to check on James some hours later as the sun sets, he climbs over Xander and for a moment, while he hovers over him, with their eyes meeting, he's suddenly aware of the intimacy that's been growing steadily between them, personal spaces merging and boundaries that have stretched out to incorporate the other.  

"Hey," Xander says, hesitantly, keeping his eyes on Harry, who has his knees on each side of Xander's body, one elbow on the somewhat hard mattress and the other on Xander's chest just under his collarbone. 

"Hey," Harry replies and smiles at him. When Xander returns the sentiment, Harry counts it as a win.

"I just want to check on James," Harry says quietly. "See if I can get him a coke or something."

Under him, Xander nods.

"Do you need anything? Water? Snacks? Anything?" Harry asks.

"I'm good," Xander breathes. 

"I'm gonna get you a water anyway," Harry says and proceeds with his attempt to get out of the bunk. 

He spends a few minutes chatting with James before he returns to Xander who has squeezed himself against the wall, scrolling through his phone.

"You want me to give you some space?" Harry asks carefully. He has no idea what he's doing, has never been the 'more experienced one' in a relationship before, so he's flying blind, relying on instincts alone.

Xander shakes his head and Harry decides to take his word for it and not ask again. 

"Here," he says and leisurely throws the water bottle in Xander's direction before he climbs after it. 

"James okay?" Xander asks while he fumbles with the bottle's cap.

"Yeah, they're gonna take a break in an hour or so," Harry says. "Sleep for a while and then we'll get back on the road sometime around three o'clock. So we should be at the venue around noon. Probably a bit earlier."

"Sounds good," Xander says and takes a few sips out of his water bottle.

"What's the plan for the next week?" Harry asks. He's lying on his front, propped up on his elbows, watching Xander out of the corner of his eyes. "Are we going to pull any more stunts after the tour ends?"

Xander hesitates and plays with the cap in his hand. "You got a show tomorrow and then two days later the completing show in New York. Because you have the night off in between. I was, uh, thinking, that we could do something once we arrive in New York. Maybe we could go see a movie or something?" He doesn't look up, doesn't meet Harry's eyes, even though he should know by now that there is no way Harry would reject him. 

Harry gives him a smile, even though he's pretty sure Xander doesn't notice from where he's still looking at the plastic lid in his hand. "Sounds good," he says, mirroring Xander's words. "Tell me what happens afterwards. About the speculation," he prompts trying to steer Xander into more familiar waters. 

Xander finally looks up and faces Harry. "Phase four?" 

Harry nods.

"You don't have to worry about anything. We have about four articles ready to go for our usual partner magazines. But we'll start the week after the last show with three smaller, local outlets. To test the waters. We'll monitor the response, but I doubt there will be backlash. And then in the second week, we'll put out the four big articles, two in print with national magazines and two online contributions, to make sure we get a broad audience. Other outlets will pick the story up. Speculation will heat up for about forty-eight hours and then we'll put out the exclusive on your own homepage. If that's still what you want."

After the last exclusive his label had put out at Harry's cost, he had tentatively hinted to Xander that he had no interest in selling his coming out story. Instead he wanted to put up a personal letter and pictures on his own website and later answer some questions on twitter. 

"It is," he says. "I'm sure."

"We can go over what you come up with a few days before we put it up. You shouldn't wait too long to start though. Take your time. Be honest. Be personal. But don't go overboard." Harry is pretty sure that both of them are aware of the irony in Xander's words, in the fact that Xander advises him on his own coming out, but Harry bites his tongue, refusing to let any sarcastic comment leave his mouth. "Same goes for choosing the pictures you want to go up with the letter," Xander adds.

"Do you think it's a bad idea?" Harry asks. 

"No."

Xander doesn't say anything afterwards and Harry never really had to fill silences with empty pleasantries with Xander before, so he just headbutts his shoulder affectionately. Xander wraps his arm around Harry and pulls him against his chest, pressing a chaste kiss on atop of his head. Harry shuffles as close as possible while Xander closes the bottle behind his back. 

They spend the night like this. Whether awake or asleep doesn't matter. They hold each other close, tangle their fingers and legs, share one pillow and a blanket, the same space and air. Much later, Harry cannot distinguish between his own heartbeat and Xander's anymore that's been filling his ear for hours. 

 

* * *

  

**Week Ten - Richmond, New York City**

They do arrive in Richmond shortly before noon with Simon waiting for them with good news. Jeff had held his promise about trying to mend the mess the label had created. Along with Simon, he had worked on some good press that's been released not only in the UK but in the US as well. 

_'Azoff Jr. Parts With Father's Company To Join Harry Styles' Entourage.'_

_After the shocking news that Harry Styles would not renew his current recording contract and was essentially dropped by his label, it is now official that the company will lose another member - Jeff Azoff, son of CEO Irving Azoff. Even though Styles struggled with some bad press last week, his relationship with Azoff Jr. has been unfazed by rumors of addiction and unprofessional behavior. 'I'm looking forward to be working full time with Harry now and to resume my position as tour manager next year. I can't think of a better work environment or career choice for me,' Azoff Jr. tells us exclusively. His father's label is still to comment on this surprising turn of events._

The whole affair puts Harry in the best of moods. Tonight is going to be his second to last concert. He's going to go on an actual, sort-of, half official date with Xander a day later before completing his tour in freaking New York City. He's going to be out two weeks. In fourteen days. Finally. 

They're on a tight schedule, with the show being just a few hours away. The last time things were this hectic had been the concert in Salt Lake City. It had remained the worst show of the tour. Harry still shudders when he thinks about it. He has sworn to himself that as soon as he gets to plan another tour, he will put Salt Lake City at the top and make it his best show to date. He wants to make up for what went wrong. He wants to at least try. His fans deserve as much. 

To everyone's relief, things go amazingly smooth. Venue crew and tour members work well and fast together, the mood is incredibly good and Harry is ready to give one hundred and ten percent tonight. Xander watches his rehearsals, something he hasn't done since Nashville, almost four weeks ago. It doesn't make him nervous anymore, having Xander in the audience, having Xander _be_ the audience. It makes him feel like he's flying through the notes and dancing on the melodies, each song taking him a little higher. 

It's been weeks since Harry has enjoyed himself this much on stage. He jokes around with the audience, he puts extra effort into all the songs and perfectly harmonizes with the band who shines as well. 

Most of the crew members take some time to watch a few songs, some even the whole show, just like Xander who's even wearing a merch shirt - for the fans to pick up upon, of course. 

Harry's drunk on it - the crowd, the music, performing on stage. He even dances off of the stage after his last song and ends up tumbling into the backstage area. He receives a few pats on the shoulder for the good show from the backline crew who gets ready to pack the equipment back up. Harry grabs a towel and looks around to catch a glimpse of Xander. He might still be in the front making sure he's being seen by some of the fans on their way out. 

He grins at him as he finally spots him returning backstage. Xander gives him a thumbs up and Harry can't stop himself from hurrying towards him, desperate to close the distance. They haven't been apart from each other for this long for two days and it physically pains him to see Xander at the other side of the room, instead of knowing him to be in his close proximity even if somewhat subconsciously. For the past forty-eight hours, having him around had been enough. Right now, Harry is dying to touch him, can't contain the urge to resurrect their bond, skin-on-skin preferably. 

"Come with, okay?" Harry says, pinching Xander's biceps to keep himself from flinging his arms around Xander right away. 

Xander shoots him a look of confusion, but follows him nonetheless as Harry heads straight for the buses. 

He pushes Xander through the door first before climbing after him. 

"What-," but that's all Xander can say before Harry puts his lips on him, kissing the words right from his mouth. 

Xander goes with it, lets Harry move them along the aisle of the bus until he bumps against the bunks with the back of his knees. 

Harry wraps a hand around Xander's neck now, breathing hard, shamelessly pressing closer, sliding his tongue between Xander's lips, chasing Xander's taste. His other hand fists Xander's shirt as he keeps kissing Xander as if his life depends on it. 

"Take it off," Harry says, breaking the kiss to look at Xander. "I wanna suck you off, but I'm not going to do it while you're wearing a shirt with my face on it."

Xander laughs and frowns simultaneously while he processes what Harry had just said.

"Knowing you, I would have guessed it'd be actually a turn-on," Xander says and Harry is glad he hasn't scared him off with voicing what he wants.

"You want me to, right?" Harry asks nevertheless, putting their banter aside for a moment. "I really want to. If you let me."

Xander eyes him over and Harry can only imagine what he sees: Flushed cheeks, swollen lips and eyes full of pleading need. Xander nods before he yanks the shirt over his shoulders and head while Harry fumbles with Xander's belt. He rests his forehead against Xander's chest for a moment, takes a few deep breaths before he mouths at Xander's skin. His fingers are on autopilot, flipping open the button on Xander's jeans and unzipping his fly. They're steady and working with purpose while Xander shudders over Harry's tongue that flicks over his skin. 

Harry pulls back, just to look at Xander once more before he drops to his knees.

"Fuck," Xander groans as Harry works his pants down to free his cock. "Fuck," he says again. 

Harry doesn't waste any time. He knows what he wants. What he needs.

Xander's hard, and wet at the tip and Harry has never wanted anyone else as much as he wants Xander now. In his mouth, in this bus, in his life. 

When Harry takes him in, Xander tips his head back and moans unashamed as Harry licks around his cock. 

Harry gives him a moment to breathe and himself a moment to get used to the taste and weight on his tongue before he starts to move his head back and forth dragging his lips around Xander's erection. He wraps his hands around Xander's thighs to steady himself but also to encourage Xander to fuck him back, to match his rhythm. 

"Shh," Xander hums and stills Harry with a hand around his neck. When Harry looks up, Xander watches him carefully. "Go slow, okay?"

Harry, still with his lips around Xander, is torn between the panic of rejection, of not being good enough, and his unyielding desire to make Xander feel good.

"I want to," Xander adds, picking up on Harry's unease. "Trust me, I want to." He keeps one hand around Harry's neck, but moving the other on his thigh, placing them over Harry's, loosening Harry's grip on him. Harry gives in and drops the hand first, then the other one, grabbing the jeans around Xander's ankles instead.  "But your Harry Styles," Xander goes on, voice so fond and gentle that Harry almost tears up from it. "Can't risk a sore throat," Xander reminds him and runs his fingers through Harry's hair. "Just slow okay?"

Harry adjust his rhythm, going slower now, slower and deeper under Xander's touch and his keen eyes. Xander watches him the entire time, breathing hard and shuddering every now and then. Harry runs his hands along his thighs, coaxing beautiful noises out of Xander while he sucks on his cock like it's the best thing he's tasted in years. It might as well be. 

"I'm close," Xander warns him when Harry has his nose pressed against the soft skin under Xander's belly button. Harry doesn't want to pull off, he wants to go on, wants to feel Xander fall apart while he's deep inside. 

"Harry," Xander breathes tugging gently on a fistful of hair. "Come on," Xander urges. "Don't make me do this," he says and Harry feels tears sting in his eyes.They should have talked about this, they should have figured each other out before diving in, and Harry shouldn't have pushed Xander this far while riding a wave of adrenaline and euphoria.

Reluctantly, Harry pulls back and let Xander slip out of his mouth who wraps his own hand around his erection, stroking in the same rhythm as Harry had sucked him off before. 

"Lie down," he says determined and Harry awkwardly shuffles back and lies down in his bunk with his legs hanging off the edge. Xander stands between his knees, fisting his cock more hastily than just a second ago. 

Harry doesn't really know what Xander wants, so he just pulls his own shirt up, baring his stomach and chest. 

"Pants," Xander gasps and Harry complies, opening the buttons of his jeans and pushes them down, just under his ass, so Xander can get off where he wants. 

It's the first time since he had asked Harry to slow down that Xander tears his eyes away from Harry's face and lets his gaze drop down to where Harry's cock springs free, just as hard as Xander's, between the dark patch of hair, leaking a bit of precome. 

"Can I?" Xander asks, not looking up, focusing on Harry's length. 

Harry nods first, before he realizes that Xander wouldn't notice, so he tries his best to verbalize his thoughts. "Yeah," Harry pants. It's the best he can do. 

Xander strokes himself faster, tightens his grip and it only takes him a few more second before he comes all over Harry's cock, shooting stripes of hot come on Harry's skin. It's the hottest thing Harry has ever seen or felt. He's painfully hard now, staring down at his own dick, amazed by just how shamelessly Xander had just claimed him as his. 

Xander leans against the upper frame of the bunk, one arm against the board and had his face buried in its crook while the other's still wrapped around himself moving ever so slightly, wringing the last of his orgasm out of him. 

It's quiet around them, too quiet and Xander won't move, so Harry lets out a pitiful whine while he bucks his hips up to get Xander's attention. 

Xander pushes himself back, props himself on his hand rather than his arm now looking down at Harry as if he's never seen anything quite like it. 

He reaches out for Harry, but stops mid-way, just a few inches from Harry's aching erection, and then flexes his hand in the empty space between them. His face is set somewhere between concentration and confusion and Harry is not really sure what is happening or what he should do to dissolve the tension that suddenly hangs so heavy in the air.

"I-," Xander starts and Harry is just about to interrupt, wanting to say that he doesn't have to, when Xander abruptly straightens his back.

"I can't do this," Xander says and mumbles a "Sorry," before he grabs his shirt on his way out and slams the door shut.

Harry can't move, can't get up, he just manages to throw an arm over his face, before the tears start rolling down his cheeks and some muffled sobs escape his mouth. The humiliation fills Harry to the brink and he starts to shake under the heavy weight of repulsion. His chest and throat feel tight, his legs and face feel numb while his arms and shoulders start to ache and burn and his stomach starts to wring and twist.

Minutes pass, one by one, eventually even an hour in which Harry lies on his bunk, with his dick out, flaccid now, covered in dried come and his face covered in dried tears. He can hear the crew packing up, loading the buses and Harry knows he has to force himself up, has to clean himself up, at least get a wet towel for his crotch, but he can't. The only thing he manages to do is to curl up on himself and pull the blanket over his shivering body and hide his face in the pillow that still smells of Xander and his obnoxious cologne.  

 

 


	9. Phase IV - Speculation

He falls asleep like that, pants down to his knees, a mess on his stomach and in his heart. Sleeps when the bus pulls into the traffic, sleeps the whole drive to New York City and sleeps when they arrive at the venue. Xander didn't return.

After the crew had already started working on building the stage, James makes his way to the back of the bus to check on Harry. He's worried, they're all worried that Harry hasn't appeared outside yet. Apparently, Xander had spent the night on the business bus, had left the venue as soon as they'd arrived. Harry figures he went home.

Being at the venue means being able to shower, being able to clean himself off of Xander's traces, but Harry doesn't want to see anyone today. He'd kicked off his jeans while he was sleeping and had switched his pillow for his arm which was hardly more comfortable, but at least it prevented him from sleeping on a giant Xander-Ritz-flavored scented sachet.

Simon checks on Harry shorty after James and Harry tells him the same lie he's told James as well: That he was sick and needed a day off. That he was going to do the show tomorrow, but that he needed to stay in bed. That he didn't want to see anyone. That they should leave him alone.

Harry is lucky, because Simon trusts him that he won't put their last show at risk by lightly proclaiming he was going to be fit to be on stage tomorrow if he wasn't sure of it. Cancelling the last show on short notice would be public suicide in his current situation and an insolence against his crew. He's keeping everyone off of Harry's back for the day for which Harry will be eternally thankful.

He just needs some time. Time to recover, time to at least momentarily fix what Xander had broken in him. No one, absolutely no one, has ever made Harry feel this humiliated, this ashamed and insecure of his feelings, of his entire being of what he needed last night and what he had desired so deeply. And considering that Harry works in an inherently homophobic industry, that's a whole new level of self-hatred and internalized shame. Something he worked years on to overcome.

It's not like he sleeps the entire day. It's not even that he stays in his bunk the entire time. But it doesn't feel like he's actually moving through the bus, getting something to drink, cleaning himself off with a wash cloth, sitting down to stare into nothingness. It doesn't feel like he's awake at all. Nothing feels real. 

It's an unspoken rule, that while parked at the venue, you do not use the bus toilet but the bathrooms backstage. It saves James some rather unpleasant work. And Harry knows he's being unnecessarily rude as he stands in front of the bowl to take a piss, but he can't bring himself to leave the bus. He makes a mental note to make sure he's going take care of his own mess though before James has a chance to. Knowing him, he would do it without a word of complaint.

Xander calls him an hour after midnight. It's not like Harry has been sleeping. It's not like he's been doing anything meaningful, or anything at all, but Harry ignores him the first time around. He rejects his second and third call and only answers the fourth call after the fifth ring.

“You know, I was wrong saying I'd miss those middle-of-the-night-calls,” Harry says as soon as he answers the phone.

“I fucked up,” Xander says immediately, but Harry still considers hanging up. 

“No,” Harry says and then thinks for a moment. “I fucked up. It was too much for you, I get it. I shouldn't have pushed you like that. Shouldn't have thrown myself at you like I did.”

“You know that's bullshit,” Xander says. “I wanted it. And I wanted to, you know-,” on the other end of the line, Xander takes a deep breath. “Return the favor. I wanted to do it, but wanting it and then realizing that I've never done this before, never wanted this before, with another men, but then with you-,” he stops once more to get enough air. “I wanted it with you. I wanted it more than anything else. And it was just too much, you know?”

Harry does know. He's been there. But it doesn't change what it had done to him. To them. 

“You have no idea what you looked like,” Xander goes on and Harry shifts uncomfortable where he's sitting in the back of the bus. “It was too much. It was just the best thing I have ever seen. Not because you were, you know, naked, and covered in, you know, it was because it was you. And you had been on your knees for me without giving it a second thought. And then you'd lied down for me without giving it another thought. You'd rolled up your shirt and you'd tucked down your pants and I was so into it, you know. I wanted you so much. And then I got so scared, because I don't know what to do with it. I've never done this before. I've never felt like this before. There was just no way, I could give back what you did for me. No way, I could make you feel just as good, but God knows, you deserve it. I was going to embarrass myself, you get that, Harry, don't you. I don't know how to do this. I was going to fuck it up anyway. But I know now that I made it worse. That I shouldn't have left. But-,” he sounds genuinely desperate. “But I didn't have any words.”

“I felt like shit,” Harry says. “Worse, actually. Still feeling like it. So what if it wouldn't have been that good. So what if it would have been awkward and embarrassing. You don't have to excel a being gay, you know? Or bi, or whatever. Being with a man. Being with me. You don't have to be perfect at it. No one's keeping tabs. And anything, even the worst thing, would have still been a million times better than this.”

"I know." Xander tells him, tone somewhere between shame and defeat. 

"Why would you just leave me like that?" Harry asks, voice breaking as he swallows hard and blinks through the tears. 

"It was too much," Xander repeats. 

"Because of me? Because I rushed it? After the concert?" He can't help, but ask himself what he could have done differently. 

"No, because of me. Because I was-," Xander stops, searching for the right word. 

"Ashamed?" Harry offers and the silence that follows is all the answer Harry needs. It turns a switch inside of him, from sadness to anger. "You call yourself a coming out assistant. You use a slogan that says 'Coming Out - Coming Home' and you still believe there's shame in wanting to be with a man? In being anything other than straight? In having sex with the person you love just because they're the same gender as you?"

"No," Xander says helplessly in the face of the insinuation. "It wasn't the sex."

"Should I be ashamed of wanting you? Of giving myself over to you?"

"No," Xander says again, more firmly this time. 

"I have a show tomorrow," Harry reminds him. "I can't do this right now. I can't be angry or cry, I should get some rest."

"I know," Xander says. "I don't want you to hate me."

"Like you hate yourself?" Harry asks. "You wouldn't even see the homophobia you have internalized if it would hit you in the face," Harry hisses.

"It's not just the sex," Xander insists. "It's not about being with a man," he says a little desperate. 

"Then what it is?" Harry pressures.

"It's you," Xander admits finally and before Harry even has a chance to process the words, he goes on. "I'm ashamed of what I want with you. Of what I wanted with you. Last night. In that moment. And I didn't realize, not consciously, until I-," he hesitates, still unable to spell it out. "Until I was finished and then it all came crashing down. When I saw what I did, when you were lying in front of me."

"What does that mean?" Harry asks, not catching up. 

Xander takes a few breaths. He seems unable to even try to explain.

"You're scaring me," Harry says quietly. He can't even pinpoint his emotions anymore. He's angry, disappointed, still feels humiliated and hurt. And now he's agitated and nervous. "When you don't talk," Harry goes on, pressing his phone just a little closer to his ear. "When you don't say anything, Xander. You're scaring me when you won't say anything."

He still hears Xander breathing, on the other end of the line, probably in his apartment, somewhere in a another part of the city. But that's all he gives Harry to cling onto. 

"What did you want to do with me?" Harry asks. "Last night."

There's some shuffling and rustling on the other side. Another inhale and then-

"I wanted to wreck you," Xander admits. "I wanted to do it again. Come all over you. And I wanted you to do the same to me. I wanted to suck you off, swallow you down, have you come on my face."

"Jesus Christ," Harry breathes.

"I wanted you to fuck me," Xander goes on, adding 'moderately aroused' to the list of emotions Harry experiences right now. "I wanted to fuck you. I wanted us to never leave that stupid bus. I wanted you to go on stage in New York not leaving any doubt to who you belong with. I wanted them to know that you weren't alone anymore. That they cannot hurt you anymore. That you got me now. I wish I could have made everyone see that I know you down to your bones and that it doesn't matter who was before me, because no one ever cut as deep as me. And that it doesn't matter who will come after me. No one in the world would inhabit every inch of your body like I wanted to. I would have made sure no one else would ever come close to it. Ever again. That's what I wanted to do to you. And that's what I wanted you to do to me."

Harry is stunned. Not only by what Xander had just admitted, but also by how completely wrong he was to assume Xander would instead confess to his shame and self-hatred over his sexuality. He wants to tell Xander that he doesn't need his protection, that he has only known him for three months, and that he definitely shouldn't admit to the jealously, the possessiveness, not yet, not ever, and that he was right to be ashamed of wanting Harry like that, and wanting Harry to return those feelings.

"Let me," he says instead. "Let me do that."

"I'd let you do anything."

Harry doesn't think about it. He sits up, suddenly wide awake, desperate to keep Xander on the phone, even though he'd threatened to hang up just a minute ago. 

"Remember how I touched you?" Harry asks. 

"Yeah," Xander almost whispers. 

"Touch yourself like that," Harry says, voice oozing a confidence unknown to him. Yes, he can be firm talking about contracts, and he can be threatening talking about law suits, but this? This is something else entirely. "Go ahead. It's okay. I want you to."

"Please," Xander whines, breath hitching. "Come here," Xander pleads. "Please, come here." He's a little breathless, and not quite himself. Impatient and not at all collected, but broken, begging to be put together again. 

"You know, I can't," Harry says. "I wish I could, but I have to be here tomorrow. Get ready early. They're gonna kill me, if I'm gone."

"I promise, I won't run," Xander begs, his voice is all kinds of messed up. Desperate, needy, somehow full of arousal, but gentle and helpless at the time. "I want to touch you before the tour ends," he says. "I need to touch you before it all changes."

Harry doesn't know if he's up for it. Not only because of the show tomorrow, because of the day he took off today, the work he has to catch up on, but because he doesn't know if he's ready to face Xander just yet. After everything. Despite what's going on at the moment, with Harry on high alert, itching to take the reins, to mess Xander up, just like he'd messed him up, from a safe distance that won't affect him, that'll keep that one last piece of his mind detached, something to hold on to, his work, his life, knowing that he's been fine alone, has doesn't need anyone else to define him, with Xander on the line, a hand wrapped around his dick, urgent and exposed, despite all that, he hasn't forgiven him yet. Hasn't made peace with what had happened. 

But Xander's words cut deep, just like he's threatened earlier. They seep into Harry's bones. The realization that the tour is about to end. That whatever Xander and him decide to do, how they decide to go on, it will never be like this. And they'll have to figure everything out anew. It's their last night.

"Text me the address," Harry says and hangs up then. He gets up immediately after and rushes through the bus, ditching his sweatpants for a pair of jeans and grabs a jacket out of his junk bunk. He figures, since it's New York he can safely take a cab without risking this story to be out in a tabloids tomorrow.

He leaves James a message. Someone should know where he is. Even though Harry plans to be back before everyone else gets to work, with the last show just hours away he can't possibly know who is going to look for him and when. 'Harry Styles Disappears Before Last Gig' would definitely be a headline he doesn't need. 

He arrives at Xander's place twenty minutes later. His hands feel heavy and his stomach is certainly doing his own thing, flipping, dropping, twirling, so that Harry has given up on trying to get himself together. When Xander lets him in, Harry realizes how thing are not changing tomorrow, but have changed already. This is not like being on the bus. This is leaving familiar territory. It's Xander's home and not some hotel room they'll never see again. This is personal. Willful intimacy. 

It's quiet, no background noises, even though the city is buzzing underneath them. 

"Nice place," Harry says after stepping in. The apartment's different from what Harry had expected from Xander. But yet again, Harry knows for sure upon seeing his own contract with Xander that he probably could not afford a place that would represent his aspirations, the neatness or arrogance he portrays in his work. The place is a little bigger than your usual one-person-apartment, but the furniture is old and the carpet's worn out, and standing close to kitchen, it smells faintly of cat food. None of Xander's clothes has ever smelled like cat or were full of cat hairs, so Harry figures he makes plenty of use of the luxury of dry cleaning.  

"Don't bother," Xander tells him.  

They just stand there for a moment, looking at each other with a coldness that hasn't risen between them since Harry had left Xander's office the last time before he'd decided to take him on. It's the ramification of the night before.  

Maybe coming here was a mistake, Harry contemplates. Maybe he should have slept in the bus. It's shortly after two in the morning and Harry has to be back in five hours.

"Why am I here?" Harry asks finally out loud. "You wanted me to come. So here I am. What now?"

Xander takes a step towards him. And then another so that he can carefully place one hand on Harry's cheek, thumb brushing the corner of his lips.

"Last night," he says. "Let me make it up to you. Let me be mediocre and embarrassing and awkward with you."

Harry snorts at that. "You sure?"

Xander nods. And even though Harry believes him, he doesn't want to repeat any mistakes. 

"We don't have to, you know? Yesterday, after the concert. I was just really hyped. It was after we kissed and all that. But now, it's-," he hesitates. "Different. I don't even know if I can after what happened. I don't know if I want to."

"Then we'll just sleep," Xander says, fingers playing with the hair behind his ears.

Harry takes a deep breath and tries to sort his emotions. Does he still want Xander? Yes. Is he still mad? Yes, but it's not like he doesn't get it. Does he want to be here? Definitely. 

"Do you love me?" Harry asks, because this one he can't sort out by himself. 

Xander tilts Harry's head up just a little to make him look at him before he nods. 

"Take me to bed?" Harry asks, waiting for Xander to nod again before he toes off his shoes and shrugs off his jacket. 

 

* * *

 

Xander kisses him once they lie down, slow and careful, sets his own pace. Harry lets him. This time he lets Xander take the lead. And he doesn't disappoint. He gives Harry the slowest handjob in his life, with slightly clumsy fingers that still try to find their purpose. He's so hesitant and uncoordinated that Harry wonders if he's ever given himself a proper wank before. Yet Harry finds himself to love every second of it. Looking down at Xander's hand wrapped around him, and tracing the veins on his forearm. Smiling up at him, brushing along his stubble or running a hand through his curls. Seeing Xander blush and asking him if he's okay. He loves all of it. Xander keeps kissing him, his lips, his neck, his chest. He bites the tattoo on his stomach, sucking in a bruise that's only going to be barely visible to those who knew it's there. 

It's not at all what they'd talked about earlier. It's not fucking each other until their muscles ache and their bodies give out. It's not about marking each other to the point it will be impossible for other people not to pick up on it. It's not about crawling under each other's skin, but when Harry comes messily under the touch of Xander's hands, he feels wrecked nonetheless. In all the right ways. 

"You're not too bad at this, you know?" Harry says quietly as Xander settles into the sheets next to him. He lets out a laugh at Harry's words. "I mean it," Harry says, turning on his side to face him. "You want me to help you out?" he asks with a nod down to Xander's crotch.

Xander shakes his head. "No, it's okay."

"Come on," Harry urges. "This can't be comfortable."

"We should get some sleep," Xander says. 

"It didn't freak you out, did it? Getting another guy off for the first time?" Harry asks.

"No," Xander replies and gives him a quick smile. "I just want to hold you for a while, okay? Before you have to leave?" He carefully wraps an arm around Harry, giving him a moment to protest, but it's not like Harry wouldn't want to be held by him. "I didn't call to get more sex out of you," he whispers, obviously afraid that Harry would think that. 

"I know," Harry says and leans in for another kiss. 

 

* * *

  

Xander wakes him just as the sun starts to rise, so that Harry can get back to the venue. 

"I'm going to call you a cab," Xander says and places a kiss on Harry's temple. 

"Are you coming to the show?" 

"Do you want me to?"

Harry nods, rubbing his eyes. He's tired, very tired, but he's performed after shorter nights. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

"I know," Xander just says. "You could stay here and I'll get you to the airport. I need to get my things from the bus anyway. I could pick you up."

"Do you think that's smart?" Harry asks.

"I don't think anyone would be surprised anymore to see us together." 

"Not what I meant," Harry says, crawling out of bed and stepping into his jeans. "Pretty sure, it's going to make things harder."

"So your just going to stay in a random hotel?"

"It's a five-star actually," Harry comments.

"Of course," Xander says. 

"It's closer to the airport."

"You could just say 'no', you know?" Xander says, getting dressed as well.

"What are you doing?" Harry asks.

"I'm coming with you."

"Why?"

"I still got a job to finish. And to pack my stuff. You still got the whole day to decide."

"Xander," Harry says, reaching out, running a finger over his the back of his hand. "It's not like I don't want to. But I think we should put this thing on hold. Until after the coming out."

"Can you just do it? Put your feelings on hold?" Xander asks.

"I still have to do this alone," Harry says. 

Xander catches Harry's finger with his hand, guiding him closer. "I know," he says. 

"We have to handle my thing first and then, later, figure out how we're going to do this. Us. With you in New York and me jetting between London and LA. It's not going to be easy. It's not easy now. And it's only going to be harder to put this aside for a moment the deeper we get into it now."

"How about we stay on the bus?" Xander offers. "One last night? Just us? Before we put this on hold."

Harry contemplates for a moment. He's got a hotel room booked, had it since before the tour had even started, but he could still cancel. 

"Sounds good," Harry says, knowing it's still going to kill him tomorrow, when he has to leave for the airport.

 

* * *

  

The day is filled with sounds checks, vocal coaching and last minute briefings by Simon about how things are going to develop over the next few weeks. The last show is amazing. Harry feels the love from everyone around. He feels happy and relieved that the tour is coming to an end, while at the same time feeling oddly melancholic, worse than ever before. Standing on the stage after his last song with tears in his eyes, he wishes he could stop time, turn it back, or just add another ten gigs to the schedule. He's not ready yet to leave. 

They spend the night on the tour bus, just like they say they would. They're huddled up in Xander's bunk, pressing close, just breathing each other in. When Harry starts to cry over the goodbyes, Xander hold him for as long as he needs, whispers words of love into his ear and kisses his forehead, the tip of his nose and both of his cheeks. 

Harry even pulls up his phone and plays Xander a demo version of Olivia that he'd recorded on the bus. The quality is bad, but Xander still laughs and kisses Harry even though he can't keep from grinning. When it's time for Harry to leave, it's Xander's turn for tears. He's trying to hide from Harry, but eventually even he has to realize that they're over it. Over hiding and saving face. There was never enough room for anything besides honesty on this bus anyway. 

"We're not done," Harry says over and over again, lips pressed to Xander's neck. "We're not done."

 

* * *

 

Back in London Harry gets some well deserved time with his family and lays low for as long as possible. While he gets some downtime, Xander is back at work, swamped with work his close to Harry's coming out.

He doesn't see the test articles. Which is not concerning as Xander had told him they would use local papers to stay under the radar, but Simon tells him the response was just as expected and that they would go forward with the big articles that are meant to unleash speculation. 

 _'Could Harry Styles Be Into Men?',_ The Sun asks just a few days later, while People magazine titles: _'Harry Styles' Best Kept Secret - The Singer Might Not Be As Straight As We Thought'_.

Most of the comments under the accompanying online articles are some variation of: _"I always knew he was gay,"_ or _"It was never a secret he was into guys"_. Some of the comments mention Xander, just as they should, to steer speculation away from his past closeted relationships. _"He and that Xander guy have been dating for weeks. Everyone knows." "Why is this even an issue, he can date who he wants and he apparently is dating his PA. It's none of our business."_

Harry hasn't talked to Xander in a week, trying to clear his head and focus on the tasks still to come. Besides, it might help Xander remaining as detached as possible, focusing on Harry as just a client while he deals with media outlets and Harry's own PR team. 

He's not meant to be seen with Xander anymore, leaving speculation to unfold on its own while being monitored by his team and not fueled by a lovesick Harry flying out to New York because he misses his fake boyfriend, so Harry is glad there's an entire Ocean between them, and time differences, and a million people in London Harry has to catch up with. 

About three days after Harry had left, Xander had posted a picture of himself and Olivia, announcing her return from his sister's place. It makes Harry's heart ache that he can't be there. He tells himself the feeling will fade. After five days, after seven, after twelve days, but even after sixteen days, just hours before his letter is going online, Harry still feels like he's missing half of him and as if all he's been doing for the past two weeks was wasting time. 

 

 


	10. Phase V - Confirmation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping the tradition I started with Phantom Check, I am going to end this fic with Xander's POV. Thank you all for your messages and comment and support and love! This one is for you, anon who asked for a smut fest!

Being away from the person you've just fallen in love with is naturally hard. Being away from the person you've not only just fallen in love with but who has changed your life and had turned everything you've thought to know about yourself upside down, before you even get a chance to make sense of what has happened to you, is even harder. 

Falling back into business would have been Xander's natural approach. It should be easy. It's what he's good at, what brings him confidence and a sense of security. Not this time though. This time things are a little more difficult. 

Harry has sent him his personal statement a few days before it's supposed to go up on his webpage. Xander is supposed to read it with a professional eye. He's supposed to make sure it's exactly what Harry wants to express - not more, not less. He's supposed to make sure the message is crystal clear and easy to capture. He's supposed to make sure it is engaging and connects with the reader all while not being overly emotional or too distant. But he's having a hard time separating Harry Styles - Popstar from Harry - I-will-always-hate-you-the-most, Travel Scrabble, I-will-sue-your-ass - Styles, the one he's so desperate to kiss right now.

He reads it. Of course he does because it's his job. He reads it once, twice, then for a third time, and a fourth. A day later he knows every word by heart. He should maybe make some annotations, give some advice, do anything that would justify the paycheck he's going to get at the end of the month. But there is not a single word he wants to change. 

On Sunday, Xander's up at five a.m. because time zones suck and because Harry's letter is supposed to go up and online in an hour, before noon - London time. So everyone has to be ready and at least mildly coordinated. They wanted to put the confirmation up on a Sunday so that news outlets could pick it up by Monday, making it the news of the week. At the same time they wanted to use the quiet of the weekend to give Harry time to interact with his fans. Australian fans will still be left with the opportunity to tweet Harry before bed, while American fans will wake up to the coming out, and his fans in London will be served the news with their lunch. 

Technically, there is not much to do. The PR-team in London is ready for phone calls and interview requests even though they could wait until Monday morning to manage those. It's still good to have everyone a least sort through the requests before making a final decision the day after. They will also monitor all the online articles that will be published as soon as Harry's confirmation is public in case they have to ask for changes or have to add official comments. Simon is ready to handle any talk with business partners that might come up. Xander's task is to support Harry doing his unofficial Q&A on Twitter.

To his own surprise he's nervous beyond compare. He's already spilled his coffee - barely avoiding his laptop -, has forgotten the attachment to two of his emails, and had forgotten about Olivia when he had opened the balcony door to get some fresh air. Lucky for him, she was tired too and not too fast so he could swoop her up before the would reach the ledge. 

He really needed to calm down or else someone would end up getting hurt. 

It was all set up and Simon would be the one to give the final signal for the upload. Xander's still on the phone with him minutes before their endeavor will finally reach its destination. Simon's in his office while Harry is in his own home, so Xander will just have to call him in a few minutes. His urge to contact Harry is so strong however that he sends him a text while nodding along to Simon's last minute instructions. 

**> Ready for the grand finale?**

he types while Simon stresses again that Harry is not supposed to answer to any journalists or gossip bloggers directly and that he's supposed to check every account before answering.  

"I'll make sure of it," Xander says and waits for Harry's reply. Maybe he should have opted for something more personal. Maybe something more empathetic, less business like. Maybe a "Hi" would have been nicer as an opener. It's what Harry had written to him those few days ago when he'd sent him the confirmation post. He had just answered that he would read it as soon as possible and get back to him. Which he hadn't. Not personally. Instead he had forwarded everything to Simon and said they were good to go. Maybe he should have apologized for that. Maybe he should ask Simon to supervise the tweets. Maybe it took Harry just short of seventeen days to get over him. Maybe Harry realized that he wasn't really the best option. Or even an option at all. 

**< Been ready for about a year. Can't wait to get it over with**

Well. That would be, what people call, an answer. Not quite what Xander was hoping for. 

"Don't make it too long," Simon says, interrupting Xander's thought process. "Half an hour. An hour max. This is just a little for the fans. We're not going to put it all out there. And I don't want him to move too far from the topic of his coming out. After all this has a purpose. The tweets must be easy to find for everyone looking. I don't want them buried under answers about his favorite color or the last meal he had."

"Got it," Xander assures him while thinking of a reply. Something. Anything. 

But then three little dots appear, indicating that Harry is typing. 

**< Can I do it alone? **

**< I can do it alone. **

**< I want to.**

Feeling awkwardly rejected, Xander exhales shakily, audible for Simon who asks what is happening.

"He wants to do it alone," Xander says. 

"No," Simon says immediately. "It's too important. We need all the eyes on it we can get."

Xander rubs his forehead in frustration before he makes a decision.

"Let him," he says. "I'll brief him on the rules. I'll monitor and double check every tweet. He won't mess it up."

On the other end of the line, it's Simon's turn to sigh. "You sure?" 

"I can't butt in all the time. I can't make him check in with me before every tweet. It's too personal," Xander explains.

"It's not personal anymore," Simon argues. "As of today it will be public information. And it is our job to control how the public will receive this particular piece of information."

"And if anyone is aware of it, it's me," Xander assures him. "Trust me. Trust him."

There's a long pause before Simon speaks again.

"Is this really your," he hesitates and then puts a heavy tone on the word that follows, "professional opinion?"

Xander is taken aback for a moment. He doesn't know how much Simon knows. He doesn't know how much anyone knows that has been involved in the tour. He should know. It's his job to know. But he always figured no one knew apart from what was already discussed in the press and that Simon still believed none of it was real. Which might have been a false assumption.  

"It is," Xander says. He's not sure if he's faking the confidence in his voice, if he only wants to give Harry what he needs or if he really trusts Harry to not make any mistake from a PR point of view. "He can do it," he decides eventually.

Simon considers the whole thing for what feels like minutes before he agrees. "If this goes wrong, you're cleaning up after him. Immediately."

"Promise," Xander says and pulls up his messages again.

**> Check accounts before answering, always read the twitter handles and stay in safe waters. When I text you to wrap it up, wrap it up! Good luck!**

It takes only a second for Harry to answer.

**< I owe you**

"No, you don't," Xander says to himself before he settles in front of his laptop where Harry's account had been refreshing every minute automatically for the past hour. 

Like scheduled beforehand the letter goes up at 11 am London time. Shortly after, Xander reads Harry's first tweet. One that they had agreed on weeks ago. 

_**@ HarryStyles** To whom it may concern:_

it starts, and then links to the post on Harry's homepage before it continues:

_Thank you for your unconditional support!_

Xander clicks on the link to see if it will direct him to the right page. 

The page that opens has a header of Harry's album cover and then gives multiple options to navigate the site. A little further down, Xander can see the letter that he doesn't have to read anymore, knowing every single word as if it had been his own.

 

> _Dear Friend_
> 
> _being in the public eye for the past five years has taught me to walk a fine line between keeping private what is only for me and those closest to me to know, and sharing with you, connecting with you, opening parts of my life and heart to you as you have always done so fearlessly and trusting in regards to me._
> 
> _Sometimes, between the ups and downs of an ordinary life, between the stress that comes with the job and my anxieties over the uncertainties -Will they like my new songs? Am I trying hard enough to be a good person? Do the ones I love know how much I care about them? Do you know how much I care about you? Do they still want me around? - between all these struggles I sometimes fail to see just how clearly you let me know the answers to these questions._
> 
> _Day after day, you show me you're ongoing support, your love and excitement over my music. You inspire me. You make me want to try even harder, be braver, be gentler. You show me that I matter. And for this I will forever be thankful._
> 
> _Your support has given me the courage and the trust to share something with you that is so deeply personal that it took me a long time to understand that it's not just that, that it is political, radical, revolutionary, too. And that it matters. To me, to you and even many people I have yet not had the pleasure to meet._
> 
> _In my twenty-three years of life, I have had many crushes, I have fallen in love every now and then, but have loved, unconditionally and in the truest sense of romance, only rarely and only very few people. Very few and wonderful, kind men._
> 
> _I have come to the realization lately, that I don't want to hide this defining part of myself anymore. Not from anyone. And not from you, my incredible fans._
> 
> _I am a firm believer that love is not to be locked inside, but that it has to run free, be alive and be shared, so that it can prosper, heal and bring us closer to each other._
> 
> _I hope that you will join me in this journey that is very new but incredibly exciting to me. I hope you will be at my side, as I am on yours._
> 
> _There is no wrong way to love. There is no wrong time to love. And there is no wrong person to love. As long as there is love, we are going to be okay._
> 
> _From my heart to yours - All the love as always,_
> 
> _H._

Knowing that many fans are reading at this very moment what Harry has written so honestly and carefully makes Xander feel proud and emotionally at the same time. 

This is it, he thinks. It's done. 

He logs back in into Harry's twitter account, not with the intention to mess with what Harry is going to post and reply to but to be prepared in case he has to jump in and delete something nonetheless. He doesn't think he'll have to but he promised Simon to be on alert. 

Harry must know that's logged in but he must also know that it is his job so that might be why he doesn't text him to fuck off right away.

He's not just online to overlook Harry's activity. He has a deal to uphold as well.

"Mutual promo," Xander mutters under his breath. The bane of every modern celebrity's existence.

He opens two new tabs to go to two different accounts. Country starlet's team was definitely better prepared and had already put out a very sweet tweet.

_**@TayS** Brave words from my friend @HarryStyles ! You are awesome xx_

Xander can't bring himself to retweet, so he just likes the tweet in Harry's name. After all they already let her claim she was just helping out a friend and Xander won't ruin Harry's timeline with a PR-tweet that only profits someone else. 

He does the same on the other account.

_**@RogueLou** proud of my mate @HarryStyles._

Xander huffs. Minimal effort to draw minimal attention. He likes the tweet nonetheless.

Meanwhile Harry had replied to some congratulations from fans. He checks the profiles but none of them are particularly out of the ordinary.

As a reply to a fan asking if he was scared Harry had written: _little scared but very excited. Now I'm just happy._

To the question whether or not he had struggled with his sexuality Harry replies: _Sometimes. But it was worth it!_

He also quotes a tweet asking whether his coming out will affect his music and says: _Absolutely. In the best way possible. Can't wait for you to hear it._

He answers a few more congratulating tweets and all in all Xander is glad how smooth things go. He checks Harry's likes to see if the two tweets from his exes are visible and subsequently almost falls off his couch.

Harry had liked half a dozen, not so subtle tweets about, well, them.

_**@HarryStyyyles** I thought the link was for a new song not his new boyfriend. I almost had a heart attack over nothing._

_**@Stylomatico** Harry: *meets his PA*_  
_Harry's heterosexuality: Byee_

_**@XarryTrash** the least surprising coming out in the history of popmusic. told y'all_

_**@5SensesTourUpdates** A perfect end to a perfect tour!_

_**@Happily_mp3** Harry: "in the truest sense of romance" Me: has war flashbacks to the New Orleans snowglobe pic_

_**@Harrysthirdnipple** Caution! Can cause homosexuality_

and attached to the tweet a picture of Xander at the beach taken from his Instagram. The same picture Harry had liked months ago when they first had to interact on social media.

He's tempted to tap the little red heart once more to unlike the tweet, not knowing how he feels to have his face on Harry's twitter account related to his coming out.

He checks the timeline again where Harry had just answered a tweet asking why he decided to come out now.

_**@HarryStyles** @harrywingsit just felt like the right time!_

Xander stares at the screen for a moment before he grabs his phone from the table and types out a message.

**< Thought you wanted to come out alone?**

Xander needs an answer quick because if he has to delete the tweets he has to do it two minutes ago. They can't play around not like this. And Xander knows back in London Simon is watching the whole thing. Probably just as agitated and confused as Xander.

When he doesn't get a reply two seconds later, he decides to throw caution into the wind and just call.

"Are you alright?" he asks before Harry can get a first word out. "Is this what you want?" He needs an answer first so he knows if he has to step in.

"Is it-" Harry stumbles. "Do you-, is this okay? Sorry. I swear I didn't mean to. But did you see those tweets? They're hilarious and nice and I just, I realized how much I missed you."

Xander lets out a breath he's been holding in. "Are you sure?"

"It's not like we're sitting down for awkward couple photos or a joint interview. We started this, they picked up on it. They're not wrong. If you don't mind, I won't either," Harry clarifies.

"Maybe something we should have talked about beforehand?" Xander suggests carefully because honestly he wasn't ready yet to be Harry Styles' boyfriend. Not publicly. Yet.

"I know," Harry says. There's some clicking in the background. "I should have called you."

"It's fine," Xander says. "It's not like I didn't tell my friends and family I was dating you before we even spend twenty-four hours together."

He can hear Harry laughing over the phone.

"How are you?" Xander asks, meaning the immediate coming out aftermath.

"I want to unhold," Harry says. "If you want to. I want to come see you."

 

* * *

 

"You good?" Harry asks, lips grazing along the skin on Xander's shoulder blades. It feels familiar somehow, but a light shiver runs over his back nonetheless.

He nods, knowing that if he were to speak his nervousness would echo as clear as the day. 

Harry places kisses from his neck down his spine. Confident, gentle, reassuring. 

If not seeing each other for three weeks had changed anything between them, it isn't noticeable to Xander. Harry had asked him to wait at home and not pick him up from the airport as he had everything arranged anyway for a quick arrival under the radar. 

Xander had somewhat expected him to be as impatient and hurried as he was when he had pulled Xander into the tour bus after the concert in Richmond. But instead Harry had been a beacon of calm. 

He'd barely kissed Xander hello, had asked to take a shower first before guiding him back into the bedroom. Nothing had been hurried or urgent. Every single move they'd made had felt like slow motion. 

This is Xander's home. The only place that had never felt too crowded or busy in a city of millions. And even with Harry here, in an apartment just big enough for one grown person and a slightly overweight cat, he doesn't feel cornered. 

Harry had stripped him down to his boxers before taking off his own clothes. 

Xander had been desperate to kiss him by then and once he got the chance to pull Harry close and had wrapped his arms around him he had not let go of Harry for what felt like hours. 

He's painfully hard and from what he can feel against his thigh so is Harry. 

Part of him is reminded of the things he's said and wished for about three weeks ago, the other part is convinced that they have time. That there is no rush, no threat to what they have. Here. In New York. In his apartment. Far away from Harry's fame. 

He's had more than enough time while they were apart to imagine all the things he could do to Harry. With Harry. He's had enough time to figure out all the things he wants to do with him. Yet, when Harry had whispered into the skin just under his throat -

"What do you want?" 

Xander had no answer. His mind was blank and running wild at the same time. Yes, there were a million things he could picture but he was suddenly reminded that he had no idea whatsoever how these things would feel like. And imagining them, fantasizing about them, dreaming about them, all that feels so far away from actually being able to spell out that he wanted them. That he knew for sure what he wanted. That he knew for sure where this should be going. 

So he'd shaken his head in desperation, hands clinging to Harry's back.

"I don't know," he'd breathed. "I really don't know."

"You want me to show you?" Harry had asked carefully, placing a kiss on his collarbone and a second one on his neck. 

That's how Xander ended up on his stomach, leisurely sinking into the sheets, letting Harry take control of the situation.

Harry's breath is hot and his kisses are wet as he reaches the small of Xander's back.

"You let me know, if you're okay, right? Or if you're not?" Harry asks. Xander thinks he might still be insecure after what had happened on the tour bus. But he doesn't want him to. He wants him to know that there was never a single moment even since before they had kissed for the first time that Xander had not wanted Harry close.  

"I will. But I'm good," he says with as much confidence he can put into those five words. 

His heart his beating rapidly with excitement not fear because it's Harry. Harry who might be just as arrogant as he is, just as annoying at times, just as confusing and overwhelming, but it's Harry. Harry who is confident, breathtaking, present and filled with more life and bravery Xander has ever encountered before. Harry who is full of emotions and instinct and, well, sex. 

Harry tugs on the waistband of his boxers and Xander lifts his hips so that he can pull them down. 

He runs his fingers back up then over his calves, the back of his knees and thighs. Xander shudders at the touch of his fingertips and in realization of his own arousal. 

If Xander thought there was anything better than having Harry's hands on him, he was reminded instantly that nothing felt better than having his mouth on him. Harry kisses along his thighs up to his cheeks and mouths along his hipbones. 

His hands follow his lips, discovering his body all anew while Xander closes his eyes and presses his face into his pillows. 

When Harry parts his cheeks with broad warm palms on each, Xander jerks at the unfamiliar feeling.  

"Sorry," he mumbles. He doesn't know if he has to apologize, doesn't want to disturb the aura of intimacy with his stupid voice but he doesn't want Harry to doubt that he's into it. "Sorry," he repeats. "Still getting used to it."

"Want me to take a break?" Harry asks. "Go slow?"

"No," Xander says. He really doesn't. "Want more."

There's the slightest tickle of one of Harry's loose strands of hair along the skin where his spine ends, where Harry presses his nose as he kisses Xander's body once more. 

His hands feel even hotter when he puts them on Xander's ass again, opening him to his gaze and touch. 

There's a moment of panic where Xander feels seventeen again. A moment of embarrassment and insecurity over feeling exposed like this but before he's got a chance to even adjust to the feeling, before he's got a chance to soothe his thoughts on his own, Harry lets out the slightest little whine so full of need and desperation followed by a hitch of breath that indicates that, maybe, Harry feels just as new to this. And yet Xander knows it's not embarrassment but awe that causes Harry to hold his breath. And if he had any doubt about it then it would be silenced by Harry's lips that brush over his hole just a moment later without hesitation, without doubt or self-consciousness.

Xander can't help but let out a shaky breath that turns into a moan a second later when Harry's lips seek contact with his skin more firmly.

The press of Harry's mouth against his skin, against a part of his body that has never been touched so gentle or with love and affection at all overwhelms him. Because Harry isn't just kissing him. He's mouthing along skin with wet lips and a soft tongue that teases his entrance.

Xander grabs the headboard of his bed with one hand to steady himself while he uses the other to hold the pillow under his face in place to muffle the noises that involuntarily spill out of his mouth. 

Harry doesn't waste much time and Xander is honestly thankful for it because he doesn't want any time to think this through rationally. He just wants to let go. Let Harry have him in all the ways he wants him to. 

Harry seems to enjoy himself almost as much as Xander. He has a firm hand on Xander's hips that keeps him from thrusting into the sheets while the other strokes over Xander's ass and back. He breathes hard against Xander's skin, nose pressed against him with his tongue trying to breach through the muscle. 

Xander has never felt anything like that. Having had Harry's mouth on his dick had been one thing. It had been too much back then, Harry on his knees, eyes on him, lips wrapped around his cock, asking him carefully to fuck his mouth. 

This is another thing though. It's a whole different level of emotions with thoughts and fantasies running wild. He can't see Harry, only feel him in the most intimate way he can imagine, cannot do much to chase after his own needs, has to trust Harry to give him enough to find satisfaction eventually. 

He knows what it feels like to sink into another person's body but he has never had anyone doing the same to him. He knows what Harry's after. He knows what's going to happen. He knows he'll relax in time, let Harry get his tongue inside, maybe a finger, let Harry feel him, taste him, know him inside out. Literally. 

Harry gives him time, warms his skin with his hot mouth, sucks at his rim and circles his muscle with a determined tongue. It's addictive and Xander has no idea how he's ever supposed to go back from this. How he's ever supposed to be with satisfied with anything less intense and exciting. 

Harry presses a little closer, just for a second before he pulls back. His breaths are cold against the wet skin as he gets some air. 

Xander knows he's looking at him. He instinctively knows Harry is probably admiring the work he's done in getting him wet and flushed and ready. 

It makes him squirm. Impatient and embarrassed but Harry holds him with the hand on his hip. His grip is not firm but his warm palm soothes his discomfort. 

"You're so hot," Harry says with a rasp voice. "Can't believe you let me do this. You still good?"

"Yeah," is all that Xander can reply because he's never thought of this - him - spread out on his front with parted legs could be hot to anyone. He never thought him being open and exposed like this could be hot to anyone. He never thought him being submissive would be hot to anyone. But being here with Harry in this very moment, he can almost feel it. Can almost feel attractive as he surrenders his facade. When it's Harry who's behind him. Harry who can't get enough of him because he dives right back in, lapping over his hole with a flat tongue chasing something only he knows of. 

Xander hears himself make noises he barely recognizes as his while he's torn between seeking friction on his cock and wanting to push back against Harry's wanton mouth. 

Every now and then Harry gets overwhelmed by his hunger. Xander can tell by the grip he's got his cheek then, digging his fingers into the flesh carelessly while he tries to open him up even more as if a tug on his skin would be enough. It's not. But every time Harry looses his grip after remembering that he has to go slow, has to take control, Xander relaxes a little further so that eventually, after another one of Harry's more aggressive moments, his tongue finally slips in - just like that - and Xander lets out a moan so foreign yet so right that he can feel the relief in his whole body. 

Harry doesn't pull back out for as long as he can hold his breath, gives Xander some time to adjust to the new feeling. Xander doesn't move. Not because he needs time to adjust but because he wants to relish in the feeling for as long as possible. The slight stretch, the wet feeling, the warmth of Harry's tongue inside him, all of it feels incredible. So good that Xander is scared for a second that he'll never feel like this again. Never get it back. That first intrusion, that first time someone has had the permission and the success of pushing in. So in his fear he chases Harry's tongue as he tries to pull out, lifts his hips and pushes back. But Harry needs air and probably a moment, too, to realize fully what had just happened.

"Fuck," Harry breathes as he pushes Xander down gently back into the sheets. "Was that as good for you as it was for me?"

"I love you." The words just slip out of Xander's mouth because it is true. It had been weeks ago and it's true now that he loves him. That he loves what Harry just did, that he loves how he did it and that he loves what Harry had just let loose in him. Because he's freed a desire unknown to Xander before. He feels hazy and blinded by the need of having Harry back inside. 

"I could do this all day," Harry says, brushing over Xander's wet entrance with a dry fingertip. Just sliding through the mess he made. 

"Please," Xander whines. He needs more. Wants more. "Please, don't stop."

Harry teases him again with a finger and Xander has completely forgotten about feeling ashamed. Instead he tilts his hips and spreads his legs just a little further so that Harry can see how much he wants it. "You're unbelievable," Harry says voice soft and in awe. He lets his finger wander further down, brushes the soft skin behind his balls. "You want me to wank you off?" he asks.

"No, please," Xander blurts. He doesn't want to. Not yet. He wants something else entirely. "Fuck me, please."

There's a moment of hesitation, a second in which Xander expects their old ways to come through, expects Harry to say something like 'Xander Ritz, begging to be fucked. How ironic.' But he doesn't. Xander can hear him swallow though before says another word. 

"You sure?" he asks. 

"Yeah," Xander says. "I want you to."

"We'll see, okay?" he says quietly. "We'll try. I just-," he runs a hand along Xander's thigh. "I just don't want to hurt you," he says - which, yes, is probably a valuable concern because Xander has seen Harry's dick and it's not on the smaller side of things. "I keep doing this for a little longer, okay?"

Xander nods, doesn't want to speak out loud because what he actually wants to do is cry. Out of desperation. He can't believe how easily their positions have switched from Xander being the one to refuse fucking Harry's mouth out of concern for his voice to Harry refusing to fucking his ass out of concern for his well-being. 

"If you don't want to-," Xander starts. He can hear just how pathetic he sounds but Harry stops him right then and there, moving up and draping himself over Xander's back, letting him feel how hard he is. 

"Don't be stupid," he says, mouth close to Xander's ear. "Of course I want to. You're a wet dream coming true. I want to see you on my cock so bad. Dying to, actually." He kisses Xander between his shoulder blades. "I just want you to enjoy this as much as I would."

Xander nods again because rationally he gets it. And it wouldn't even matter if they wouldn't do it just yet. It's just that he wants to share this with Harry. Wants Harry to get something out of it too. Especially after how he'd left him the first time they'd gotten this close. "Are you okay?" Xander asks.

"Are you kidding me?" Harry laughs. "I can't get enough of you." As if to prove his words to be true, Harry pushes himself up and moves back down between Xander's legs. 

The second time Harry's tongue breaches through his muscle Xander almost comes from the relief and slight pressure of being filled again. Every time Harry enters him feels different as his body relaxes more and more and gives Harry more room to explore. After a while all Xander feels is wet and wrecked and ready to just give in, give up and ask Harry to make him come. 

But before he can make a final decision, Harry pulls back, and -

just like before, when he first put his mouth on Xander, without any second of hesitation or insecurity, Harry gently presses a finger against his wrung out hole and pushes in. No pause. No indecision. Until he's all the way in. The friction, the deep stretch, the drag of Harry's skin against his rim, it's too much, too good and Xander tenses, lets out a surprising moan, pushes himself up on his elbow as he bucks his hips, fucking back against Harry's finger and comes with his cock untouched. 

"Fuck," Harry says quietly. "Knew you were ready, but I had no idea you were this close."

Xander clenches around Harry's finger with every wave of his orgasm before he lets himself fall back on his stomach, shaken up and spent, not caring about the wet spots on the sheets. 

"Want me to stop?" Harry asks gently behind him, hand back on his hip, thumb gently stroking his skin. 

Xander shakes his head. "No. I want-, just not yet, I want-"

If only he had more experience. If only he knew if it was normal or common to not want Harry to pull out just yet. To want Harry to keep him full just a little longer, to stay inside where Xander thinks he belongs. 

"I get it," Harry says, placing a soft kiss on Xander's cheek. "Don't worry."

He keeps his finger wet with his tongue, tracing Xander's muscle while thrusting his finger in, slow and gentle, making Xander feel every inch of skin. Occasionally, Harry tries to slip his tongue in alongside his finger and soon the one is somewhat naturally joined by a second one. Xander groans at the stretch and the knowledge that this is want he wants. 

"Keep going," he says, trying to assure Harry that he doesn't have to stop. That there is a good chance he'll be hard again soon and that he still wants what he begged Harry for earlier. 

"Have to get lube soon," Harry says. "You might already be getting sore." He flicks his tongue around his fingers again and Xander is glad that he can't see him blushing. He can feel it. The repercussion of the unfamiliar intrusion but it had been so faint, only lingering under a heavy layer of contentment and arousal that it hadn't reached his conscious thoughts yet. But it was different for Harry who had looked at the same spot for a while now, had seen his body relaxing and the skin changing under his touch and had seen his rim swell slightly around his fingers. He had not only seen it but felt it under his tongue. "You sure, you want to try?"

Xander nods and only manages to hum in agreement because his thoughts are still with what Harry has seen of him. And what he's going to see.

Harry withdraws his finger carefully and places a few kisses on Xander's spine before he gets up to dig through his suitcase for lube and condoms.

When he gets back, he pushes back in. This time with slippery and pleasantly cooling fingers and it's not soon after that Harry lines up his cock against Xander's hole. 

Xander senses the tension seeping out of Harry - one of the ramifications of living together on a small bus for two months straight - but when he listens into his own body there's no fear. Just excitement, love and desire. "I want to," he says unprompted. "Please, I want to."

It's enough to make Harry press forward, slowly, gentle, and Xander holds his breath. He feels like Harry's opening him up anew. It feels so raw and heavy that he knows there's no coming back from this. His own cock isn't exactly sure whether to stay hard or soften at the unfamiliar feeling but Xander doesn't care either way. His only regret is that he can't see Harry, can't see the look on his face, can't know if this feels as intense for him as it does for Xander. 

He makes an attempt to throw a glance over his shoulder and Harry reacts instantly, slinging an arm around Xander's chest and pressing against Xander's back. 

"I'm here," he assures him. "I'm here. You're doing so well. Are you okay?"

Xander puts one of his hands on Harry's forearm, wanting to keep him close as he nods. 

"You feel so good," Harry goes on. And pushes forward. "So, so good." 

Xander whines as Harry's cock stretches him further to adjust to the intrusion. 

Having Harry inside of him feels foreign and short of uncomfortable. Xander has to concentrate hard on staying as relaxed as possible so that Harry won't hurt him. It's not as easy as it would seem because he has to fight the instinct to clench around Harry's cock as he moves in him, pushing in further.

He feels full. Almost too full and Harry's cock feels endless, going further and further inside.

Harry's deliberatly holding back - a lot. Xander can tell from the way Harry's body seems to twitch from time to time and how his thighs tremble ever so slightly at the slow pace.

Xander doesn't know if he wants Harry to grow bolder, to go faster because on the one hand he's glad Harry is going slow but on the other hand it takes a lot of effort for him to stay relatively still and remain in control of his muscles. Part of him wants it to be over soon. He's never thought that getting fucked would take this much energy from him.

He's breathing hard in the face of the unfamiliarity and the new experience of being open like this, of being vulnerable and depending on Harry to fill these empty spaces inside of him without taking advantage.

He can feel how Harry's hair falls on his back when he kisses his spine, open mouthed in between hot breaths while his cock still forces its way through Xander's body.

When Harry finally bottoms out, Xander sighs in relief. It feels like a reward or some kind of sexual treat when Harry sneaks a hand between his legs to give his cock a few gentle tugs. It hangs between his legs, half-hard and even though Xander is thankful for Harry's reassuring touch which definitely feels good, his dick and balls feel a little like dead weight at the moment. It's a stark contrast to Harry's cock which feels incredibly hard and heavy, buried deep inside him. A perfect fit.

Xander had expected the awkwardness to fade. He had expexted to get used to the feeling of accomodating Harry. He had expected the stress to turn into routine. But in no way was he prepare for what he felt when Harry almost pulled all the way out.

The emptiness he leaves behind is unsettling beyond compare. Somehow what had felt so foreign before seems only natural now. As if being full of Harry was Xander's default state.

Xander lets out a string of noises to voice his distress. He's unable to put into words what he needs. Because what he needs is Harry. His hands on him, his mouth, and his cock inside. What he needs is for Harry's body to hold him open and fill him alike. For Harry to be inside and around. For Harry to never leave. To keep him full. To keep him from feeling empty again, left to his own, left behind.

Harry gets it. Gets him.

He pushes back in immediatly, an attempt at thrusting but Harry holds himself back once more as he gently fills Xander again until his hips press against Xander's ass again.

This time it doesn't feel uncomfortable. At all. This time it feels as if Harry is giving him something back. Something that had left him in pieces and dislodged when it was taken from him. And now that it's there again, the pieces shift back into place and Xander feels whole and complete. He moans, voice vibrating deep in his chest. He's going to be so desperate. Desperate and aching for this.

"Fuck," Harry groans and Xander doesn't really know if that's good or bad.

He doesn't have to wait too long for an answer though. Harry rests his forehead against the crook of Xander's neck and lets out haggered breath.

"Fuck," he says again. "You love this, don't you? You need this." Harry sounds like confusion, realization and fascination.

"Please," Xander pleads because he never wants him to stop. Never wants Harry to leave him empty and wanting again.

Harry fucks him slow, careful and when he feels Xander shaking under him - exhaustion taking over - he pulls out without asking Xander first which is probably for the best because Xander wouldn't have agreed to it. He would have gone beyond his limits to keep Harry inside. 

"Roll on your back," Harry tells him as he gets rid of the condom. 

He settles back between Xander's legs and then crawls forward, holding himself up with one arm and wraps his other hand around both their cocks. 

He's not in a hurry to get them both off. He keeps kissing Xander on every inch of skin he can reach, watching him closely while bringing them closer to the edge. 

Xander doesn't know who comes first and who follows. All he knows is that he's a mess. Worse than Harry has been on the tour bus. 

"I think we should take another shower," Harry suggests. He's drawing circles on Xander's stomach in the puddle of their mixed come. "Are you okay?" he asks again.

Xander shrugs because even though he's emotionally fine, he's also exhausted, still in awe at the realization of what they just did and not quite ready yet to have Harry break skin contact. 

"You sore?" Harry asks with a look somewhere between sympathy and concern. "Uncomfortable?"

"No," Xander starts and then clears his throat. "Not that. Just overwhelmed, I guess." 

"You don't feel like running again, do you?" Harry smiles at him softly. 

Xander shakes him head, returning his smile. 

"You know I love you, right?" Harry says then, somewhere out of the blue because Xander's thoughts are still caught up in the slight tease Harry had let just slip. He was still busy worrying if Harry knew that Xander was done with running away from what he felt for Harry. And wanted from him. In terms of sex and love alike. 

"I know I haven't said it yet," Harry goes on. "But not because I don't feel it or because I'm not sure. It's because for the longest time I wasn't allowed to admit to it." He kisses Xander's chest, trying to hide the hurt look on his face. Xander catches it nonetheless. 

"It was never something to celebrate, you know?" Harry admits. "I guess, that's why it's harder for me. To say. With all these business policies and that idea of professionalism. I was never allowed to just put it out there. It was never just something to feel and experience and share. It was always this problem, this-" he stops, searching for the right word. "This-"

"Matter of delicacy?" Xander offers, remembering the exact moment he had described Harry's coming out as just that. He suddenly feels awfully ashamed of how cold and clinical he had phrased it back then. 

"Yeah," Harry says, tipping Xander's chin up. "It's not anymore though. Thanks to you."

"Don't-" 

"I love you," Harry stops him. "You're the best professional coming out assistant in the world," he says with the biggest, most self-congratulating grin on his face. 

And Xander can't stop himself from kissing it. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk to me on [tumblr](http://www.werebird.tumblr.com) !


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